The Guilt of the Innocent
by Eady of Old
Summary: "I want to know why Mrs. Hughes said that 'at least there will be no baby.'"
1. Chapter 1

The Guilt of the Innocent

**Summary:** "I want to know why Mrs. Hughes said that '_at least there will be no baby_.'"

**Disclaimer:** I don't own these characters or Downton Abbey.

**A/N: I'd like to be able to tell you that this is a fluffy story that has nothing to do with S4. I'd like to be able to tell you that. Alas, it would be a lie. This scenario has been rolling around in my head since S4 as it is how I initially thought they would go with things when I saw Bates overhear Mrs. Hughes' conversation with Anna which began with the "no baby" comment. As this story makes reference to Anna's attack in S4, please govern yourselves accordingly in reading.**

**Reviews, as always, are greatly appreciated.**

* * *

"At least now you know there will be no baby..."

_No baby._

Bates went about his day's work like a man condemned. He walked slowly, leaning on his cane as though his knee gave him trouble, but his mind was clearly elsewhere. The only time he showed any interest in anything beyond his immediate tasks was when Anna entered his field of vision.

His eyes went to her immediately and tracked her like a pointer sighting a fox. Anna ignored him as she'd been doing for weeks, either leaving the room entirely or else pretending as though she did not notice his attention. She never laughed or even smiled and generally had the overall appearance of untenable misery.

He attempted to confront her once more in the boot room, but Anna quickly made up an excuse about going to Ripon and left him without a second glance. Bates tried to extract the truth from Mrs. Hughes, but she proved likewise unhelpful.

So he waited. And he brooded.

_No baby._

Anna skipped dinner that evening and disappeared somewhere into the house. Bates looked for her in all the usual places but had to give up so he could attend to Lord Grantham. After assisting his employer with dressing for bed, he returned downstairs to complete the rest of his work.

Hours passed and the other servants went to bed. Bates found Anna in the boot room, polishing a pair of Lady Mary's heels. He chose to wait for her rather than interrupt the occupation. But after an hour passed, Anna still had not left the room. The sound of her brush sliding across the leather shoes drifted into the silent hallway and into the servants' hall where Bates sat with a book. He had not even glanced at the words let alone turned a page.

After a few more moments, he looked up, checked his watch, and shut the book, leaving it tucked into the cabinet behind him. With slow steps, he wandered down the hallway and into the boot room.

Anna barely glanced in his direction as he entered, and Bates once gain heard Mrs. Hughes' voice in his head.

_No baby._

His voice sounded wrong to his own ears when he spoke. "I want to know what's going on."

She flinched at his statement but did not respond. She did not even look up at him as her hand continued to brush Lady Mary's shoes.

"Answer me, Anna," he ordered, moving forward and reaching out to take the brush from her hand. Flinching, she dropped it and the shoe as soon as his fingers covered hers.

"Nothing's going on," she said, pushing herself back from the table, her eyes darting towards the door like a wild animal searching for escape.

"Then I want to know why Mrs. Hughes said that '_at least there will be no baby_.'"

His words startled Anna as she visibly reacted to what he'd overheard, her mouth dropping open slightly as her eyes went wide.

"I want to know," he said again, more forcefully. She shivered at his tone.

Finally, Anna answered softly, "I'm not pregnant."

"But you thought you were?" Bates questioned, his voice hard and unyielding.

"I wasn't certain."

"And you were relieved when you found out for sure?"

A sigh escaped her lips as Anna said, "Yes."

His expression pained, he asked in desperation, "So you don't want a child with me any longer?"

She did not hesitate to contradict him. "I want a child with you more than I can possibly say."

"Then why were you so relieved unless..." His voice cut off, understanding flooding his eyes. The guilt and shame he saw on Anna's face was all the confirmation he needed.

He almost didn't need to say the words, but he did so anyway. "The child wouldn't have been mine."

He stared at her intently until Anna finally confirmed his statement with a single tight nod, her face completely ashen.

Bates looked away from her as hot, angry tears flooding his eyes. He did not see her struggling to compose herself, her lower lip trembling violently. And he did not witness the naked fear in her eyes that matched the confused rejection on her face.

Swallowing hard, he said softly, "You were with another man."

Anna stared at him for a long, long moment before she slowly nodded again. As she did so, her body went rigid even as her face forcibly relaxed. Had he been watching her closely, he would have realized that she'd just made a very difficult and important decision.

"Yes."

Her answer may as well have hit him with the force of a train. His expression slowly crumpled and with it the tears began to flow, making silent streams down his cheeks. Anna could not look away from his devastation.

When he finally turned back to look at her, all his anger was replaced with the deepest sadness and betrayal. "Why?" he begged.

The heat of his gaze was almost scalding in its intensity.

Struggling to find the right words, Anna finally said, "I made a horrible mistake."

"A mistake?" Bates repeated, emotions building. "You made a mistake?"

She said nothing but averted her eyes to the floor, her cheeks burning with renewed shame.

He swallowed again and, not bothering to wipe away the tears on his face, he demanded, "Who was it?"

Anna looked up at him. "What?"

"Who were you with?"

"I don't..."

His tone was growing harder and colder. "I want to know," he stated pointedly, his voice as sharp as ice.

"Why?" Anna asked in defeat, shaking her head. "Why does it matter? Isn't it enough to know that I'm guilty?"

She waited for his reaction, tense and breathless. She kept her arms wrapped around herself as though the stance helped her to remain calm. Bates looked at her face and then away from her in distress.

"Do you love this man?" he managed to ask, his voice unsteady.

Anna instantly shook her head. "No," she answered with certainty.

"Then why...?"

More boldly, she repeated, "I made a terrible mistake."

As if he couldn't even hear her, Bates asked, "Do you regret marrying me?"

Anna was near tears herself, and she struggled with each word she spoke aloud. "Of course not."

"Have I been a bad husband?"

Her face broke at the pain in his voice and her own tears began to flow.

"You are a wonderful husband," she answered as she began to tremble uncontrollably. "You deserve much better than me as your wife."

But Bates was unsatisfied with her answer. "Was I not attentive to your needs?" he asked. "Was I not... enough?"

Unable to listen to more, Anna closed her eyes and let out a ragged breath. "You are not at fault here. Only I am to blame. It wasn't you at all. You are perfect, so very perfect..."

She could feel herself shaking and wrapped her arms more tighter around her body in an effort to stop the movement. Noticing her physical reaction, Bates automatically reached out to touch her.

Anna reacted instinctively, shrinking back from him. An instant later she realized her mistake. "John, I'm sorry-"

But her rejection of his proffered touch had already wrought untold damage as he withdrew his hand. "If I'm so perfect, why can't you stand for me to be near you? Why do you pull away from me?"

"It isn't you-" she attempted.

"It must be me. I suddenly disgust you. You'll lie with another man but you can't even stand for me to touch you, to be near you."

Anger mixed with self loathing in his tone and he turned away from her, walking away towards the door. Something broke inside her at the sight of his shoulders slumped in utter defeat.

"Please wait," she begged. Bates paused but did not look around at her. Taking a deep breath, she struggled to keep herself under control.

"Blame me," she finally advised him. "I am at fault in this, not you. You have done nothing wrong. I know you have no reason to believe anything I say, but I'm telling you the truth now. You are the best husband I could have ever asked for and I love you more than anything in this life. I'm so sorry I've hurt you."

For a long moment, he did not move. But when he finally did, he simply left the boot room without looking back at her.

Anna waited until she heard the back door of the house at the end of the corridor slam shut before she let the full force of her emotions overtake her in a wave of uncontrollable sobs.

* * *

Anna found Mrs. Hughes in her sitting room the next morning. The housekeeper's first look at the other woman reflected pink puffy eyes with dark circles beneath them. She obviously had slept not a wink the night before.

"What happened?" Mrs. Hughes demanded.

Taking a breath to steady herself, Anna revealed, "I spoke with Mister Bates last night about... what happened."

The housekeeper shivered at the sadness in her voice. "He approached me about it yesterday afternoon, but I didn't tell him anything, just as I promised you. What did you say to him?"

"He... he overheard your comment to me in the hall about there being no baby," she ventured.

"Oh dear," Mrs. Hughes said, sitting down in her chair.

"He confronted me about why I was relieved not to be pregnant."

"Anna, I'm so sorry-"

She shook her head as though to wave off the apology. "It wasn't your fault. I made you keep the secret. I'm the one who..." Her composure slipped briefly, her face screwing up with pain and remembered trauma. "I'm the one who let this happen."

"You let nothing happen," Mrs. Hughes scolded her gently. Standing back up, she reached out to take Anna's hands, but the younger woman would not let her.

Rejecting the offer of comfort, Anna went on, "Mister Bates recognized that I was relieved because the child would not be his. He thought I had been with another man."

"Oh, Anna..."

"And I confirmed his belief."

Mrs. Hughes frowned at her statement. "You were not with another man," she declared. "You were forced - violently and against your will."

"It will be easier for him if he believes this instead," Anna said quietly. "Even if he finds out who... who it was... I don't think Mister Bates will murder him. Not if he thinks I was willing."

Shaking her head slightly, the housekeeper said, "But he thinks you've been unfaithful to him and you haven't."

"This is better," Anna said again. "He can focus his anger on me and I don't have to worry about him going back to prison."

"But Anna..."

"He may never forgive me for what he thinks I did, but at least he won't have to know what really happened."

"This isn't right," Mrs. Hughes said.

But Anna kept speaking, undeterred. "And if he does forgive me, at least he'll know that I'm not worthy of him even if he doesn't know the real reason why."

The housekeeper signed. She said gently, "When I said you should tell him something, this isn't what I meant."

"No, but it is something. And I haven't lied to him, not really. I was with another man, even if I didn't want it. I am to blame for what's happened, not him. I made the mistake of trusting... of trusting the man who did this and I must now pay for that mistake. My biggest regret is that my husband believes he in some way failed me. I still need to convince him that this shame falls entirely on me. He has no share in it."

"Anna, there is no shame in what was done to you."

The lady's maid shook her head firmly. Standing straight and as tall as her small frame would allow, she wiped her tears away.

"Nothing was done to me, Mrs. Hughes," Anna said, forcing herself to sound calm and controlled. "I have just told you - I was unfaithful to my husband. He is the victim in this, and I beg you to remember that."

Squaring her shoulders, Anna left the sitting room with an expression of determination.

* * *

TBC


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Wow! Response to chapter one was pretty amazing, even if there were a few curse words and complaints about my angst saturation levels at the moment. I appreciate the support and everyone's feedback.**

* * *

Bates did not speak to her for three days.

But neither did Anna seek him out. Rather, she kept to the shadows downstairs, avoiding his gaze as much as his presence. She skipped meals on the pretense of having to finish up her work, sometimes grabbing a bite to eat later but usually not. The few occasions when Anna did see her husband, the misery in his eyes was too much for her to bear for very long.

Finally, one morning, he stopped her in the hallway as she passed, her head down and intent upon whatever mission she'd just created in her mind.

"Anna," he said softly, halting her in her tracks as effectively as if he'd grabbed her arm.

Her breath caught in her throat at how gentle his voice sounded in the quiet hallway, how contrite. "Yes?"

"Can we... can we go somewhere and talk? Please?" Almost imperceptibly, Anna nodded. "Tonight after dinner, out in the courtyard?" he suggested.

She nodded again, this time a bit more firmly.

Anna spent the rest of the afternoon and evening preparing herself for that meeting. Physically, she focused on her work but mentally she thought of nothing but what she suspected was about to transpire.

He was going to leave her, perhaps even divorce her. She'd admitted to the crime of adultery and he'd once told her himself that adultery was enough for a man to divorce his wife. But as much as she could not stand the thought of losing him, she could not blame him. John had every right to set her aside. Part of her wished he would, if for his own sake.

He deserved so much better.

* * *

Bates waited for her in the courtyard. The weather was crisp and the cold managed to invade even his suit coat. But Anna gave no notice of the temperature as she stepped outside in only her simple black lady's maid's dress. He wanted to tell her to grab her coat, that it was too cold to be out in so little, but he stopped himself. He hadn't the right to tell her to do anything.

She stopped a handful of feet away from him, just out of his arm's reach. Her eyes were focused on the ground at her feet, and her expression betrayed so much sadness and misery that he could have wept from it.

"You wanted to talk," she finally ventured.

While Bates actually had a great deal to say, he first wanted to hear from her.

"The other night, you said you still love me," he stated, swallowing roughly as he thought of the pain from that moment.

Anna looked up at his comment. "Yes, I do," she affirmed simply.

He could see her eyes glimmering with the beginnings of tears. She forcefully blinked them back.

"I have trouble believing that in light of..." He sighed. "In light of..."

Unable to say the words, he let the implication stand. Just speaking the words aloud made the entire situation more real, and he wanted nothing more than for it to fade out of existence.

"In light of my unfaithfulness," Anna completed his sentence.

"Yes."

"I expect you'd have trouble believing anything I have to say," she ventured. "And rightfully so. But it is the truth."

She met his eyes, and he could see in them a true reflection of the woman he'd married. For just a moment, her misery and timidity were gone and she faced him like the woman of conviction he'd always known her to be.

"Then I have something I want to say," he told her.

Anna nodded, and he noticed her shoulders slump in disappointment as though she were expecting him to deliver some horrible pronouncement. Not for the first time, he had trouble believing she could be guilty of the crime to which she'd already confessed.

"Vera was unfaithful to me throughout our marriage," Bates observed softly. "It started right at the beginning. At first, I hated it. I raged at her and demanded that she stop. But then after I was injured at war, I stopped caring. At that time, little mattered to me, and her least of all. She never loved me, not really. So why should it matter if she was unfaithful?"

He watched Anna for her reaction, and he catalogued her response. She shivered slightly and looked at him with sympathetic eyes, just as she always had when he shared with her some snippet from his awful past. But there was more than just pity about her. She looked at him with love, with genuine love.

"It still must have hurt," Anna said quietly. His arms ached to surround her, to give and draw comfort. But he remembered how she'd startled away from him the last time he tried to touch her.

"It would have hurt more if I'd thought she really did love me."

She flinched at his comment, visibly flinched as if he'd struck her. But she stood there, still and rooted, her small form obviously braced and waiting to endure whatever else he threw at her.

As Bates considered what else he needed her to know, she suddenly filled the silence. "I know there is nothing I can say to you to make this better. I only wish there was something I could do to ease the pain I've caused."

He sighed, the breath rattling through is body as though through a cold and empty room. "Tell me what I did to drive you away."

Anna shook her head, steadfast. "You did nothing. I am solely to blame."

But he could not fathom what she was saying. Anna would never do such a thing, not unless he'd driven her to it. She was as he'd told Lord Grantham - without fault. Surely the fault lay with him. Surely he'd failed her in some manner for her to turn to another man. They could not have gone from their happy, loving marriage to this hell in so short a time without something to cause it.

"I know there is something you aren't telling me."

Anna shook her head just a little too quickly. "There isn't-"

"I know you," he went on, staring at the petite woman in front of him. "There's something you are keeping secret."

Something had been eating at her for weeks, and while he thought he had it pegged as guilt over her adultery, now... Bates sensed maybe it was something else. Something he'd done, perhaps?

But a moment later, those thoughts were forgotten as Anna offered, "I'll leave Downton. I'll go far away so you don't have to see me."

"Is that what you want?" he asked.

She looked away, unable to keep her eyes on him. "You've done nothing wrong and shouldn't have to give up your position here." They both knew he would have trouble finding comparable work anywhere else. Few employers would be as forgiving of his limp as Lord Grantham and he'd be left to find other work paying less. "I won't torture you further if my presence is painful. If we must separate, it should be me that goes."

The very thought of being separated from her hurt even worse than her betrayal. Bates tried to imagine living each day without her there by his side, and all he could picture was darkness, empty and meaningless.

"That's just the problem," he told her. "I can't bear the thought of not seeing you again. I can't even a fathom a life without you. I'm so in love with you, Anna, I just don't..."

He broke off with a terminal sigh, too embarrassed to look at her. He did not want to beg. But he would if necessary. Quietly, he asked, "Is there any way we could start over?"

* * *

Anna's breath caught in her throat at his open question.

"I love you, Anna," he went on speaking. "And I cannot accept that you were the only one at fault in this. I must have done something to drive you away..."

Her stomach twisted violently at him believing such nonsense. The doubt in his voice felt like a jagged edge on her consciousness, a reminder of the vows they'd made to each other.

"I'll tell you again, you are not to blame," Anna said forcefully, suddenly unable to keep the tears from appearing in her eyes. "I don't know why you persist in this. You've done nothing wrong. I am the guilty party, not you."

"Anna..." Bates shook his head, still disbelieving. "I can't accept that."

"You can't accept that I would do something so horrible?" she asked, fighting to keep her voice stead and certain. "This is a terrible sin, one of the worst I can even conceive of committing. And I can't stand myself for how much pain I've caused you. But I'm not a perfect person. I make mistakes like anyone else."

Her tears burst through and she wiped at them angrily. Pressing on, she said, "If you still love me and can bear to have me with you... If you truly want to start again, then I accept, gratefully. But I will not pretend that you have done anything to deserve how I've treated you."

He watched her silently for a moment, taking in what she'd said. Finally, he responded, "I do want you with me. I want our marriage to work. But I also need to know why this happened. I want to know who he is and why you turned to him."

Unable to meet his gaze, Anna looked away. "He was no one," she said quietly. "And I didn't have a reason."

"Did he force you?"

Her heart beat wildly in her chest even as she reasoned that he was grasping blindly for answers. She had to do this, she reminded herself. It was for him, for her husband. Everything was for him, to keep him safe from the law and away from prison and the hangman's noose. She could do this.

For the first time since she'd admitted her unfaithfulness, Anna told him an outright lie.

"No, he didn't force me. I was willing." She shuddered slightly as she added, "I was so stupid."

"Tell me his name."

His voice was hard and unyielding, and it frightened her.

Anna shook her head. "It won't help you to understand it any better," she said.

"I want to know anyway."

Steadfastly, she refused to answer.

"Was it Green?" Bates demanded, his voice growing sharp with emotion.

"Who?" she asked dumbly.

"Mister Green. Lord Gillingham's valet."

Anna must have reacted somehow because his eyes were instantly boring into her.

"It was him, wasn't it?" he growled, instinctively taking a step towards her. "He seduced you."

She held her ground, taking a moment to wipe the moisture from her cheeks once more as she ignored the gut-wrenching fear that seemed to surround her like a shroud.

"He teased you and flirted with you from the moment he came into this house," Bates went on, growing more angry.

"And I let him," Anna answered regretfully. "I let him because I was flattered by the attention, and I enjoyed seeing you jealous. But I was wrong. I let things get out of control and now..."

While she had not outright admitted that Green was the man, there were no other likely figures. And if she tried to defend the valet to her husband, he would either hear the disgust in her voice or suspect that she was not sorry for the crime to which she'd confessed.

Anna forced herself to look at him again, to let him see the regret in her eyes that was so deep it reached down into her soul. "Now I've made myself unworthy of you and your love. I understand if you can't get past it. Truly, I do."

Losing him would be like cutting out her heart with a knife and trying to live with it outside her body. But if it kept her husband safe...

Shaking his head, Bates commented, "I can't help but forgive you. And I can't help but feel like you hold no blame in this, no matter what you say."

His rough, emotion-filled voice pulled at her. When she'd first allowed this lie to perpetuate, she never thought he'd find fault with himself, not in this. She expected rage from him at her betrayal, not this aching belief that he'd somehow failed her.

"You only say that because you're a good and honorable person," Anna told him strongly. "Your forgiveness is a testament to your worth, not mine. I don't deserve you as my husband."

He stood there waiting for her to say more, but Anna had spoken her peace. Whatever he decided for their future, she would have to accept. And she knew it would be a process, that what she'd done to him would continue to do damage over time, bringing him back again and again to this point of hurt and doubt. She needed to be patient with him, just as he'd been these past weeks with her.

Finally, Bates asked her in a low, uncertain voice, "Will you move back into the cottage?"

* * *

TBC


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: I am overcome by the response to this story. Understanding the reactions of readers is integral to any writing like this, and I appreciate your thoughts and reviews. I know it is a painful alternative for these characters, but this is genuinely what I envisioned would happen on the show. Please continue to let me know what you think!**

* * *

They walked together down to the cottage that evening after Bates finished dressing Lord Grantham for bed. The case with her clothing was surprisingly light, and he wondered if she'd packed anything besides spare uniforms when she moved into the house. Noticing that the black dress she wore seemed to hang a bit loose on her body, he also wondered if she'd lost weight.

Anna walked straight-backed and stiff beside him, her eyes remaining focused on the moonlit path to the cottage. They'd passed this way many times in the darkness and each could probably follow the route blindfolded, but she kept her gaze ahead of her. He, on the other hand, could not help but sneak looks at her every few seconds.

Bates felt the growing need to reach out and touch her. Sometimes when she did not walk with her hand tucked into his arm he would rest his fingers gently on the small of her back, just as a reminder of his presence and to reassure himself of hers. But her case in his free hand made such a motion impossible.

Besides, he did not wish to see her flinch from him again. Each time she reacted so, it broke his already wounded heart. If she loved him as she said, why would she react in such a way?

He'd been angry at first, after her admission. So very angry. For days, he'd avoided her and raged himself into a brooding mess, but he could not bring himself to direct his anger at Anna. Despite what she'd admitted to him, he simply could not hate her. Every time he tried to think of her in another man's arms, to rile up the indignation and hurt inside of himself, all he saw was her haunted face and tear-filled eyes. Her regret could not be more complete - of that, he was certain.

But without an outlet, his anger channeled through him in an unending loop, building at odd moments until he felt he might explode. So he directed it inward, at himself and his own failings.

_She's young and beautiful. Of course she'd want more. And of course she'd torture herself for giving in to those feelings. _

Bates thought of the valet, Green. She'd all but admitted he was the man she'd been with, and circumstances confirmed it. He'd shown an interest in Anna the entire time he'd been at Downton, and the change in her behavior coincided with the valet's departure. Green was lively and fun, a younger man than he without the limitations Bates faced. His body was whole, unblemished by war. He had not the stigma of _felon _and _murderer, _words which Bates sometimes still heard whispered behind his back when he went to Ripon on an errand.

How could he blame Anna for wanting more than he could ever offer?

Bates had faulted Vera for her own unfaithfulness, but now he wondered. Perhaps he simply was not enough. If Anna of all women could not keep the vows she'd made to him before God, then truly, the fault must be with him.

She'd offered to leave him.

_Perhaps that's what she wants?_

His dark thoughts accompanied him into the cottage and up the stairs to the bedroom where he took her case. Anna followed several steps behind him. As he set her bag down on the floor, he risked another look at her.

She appeared nervous, her mouth drawn into a tight line as she unwound her arms from her midsection. Bates wondered suddenly if he was condemning her to a life of misery in asking her to return to the cottage with him, to their home. She looked not only sad but slightly frightened.

Surely, she was not scared of him? Bates swallowed dryly. He could not conceive of a situation in which he would ever physically harm Anna - not knowingly. Even the most painful of betrayals could not warrant violence against her.

"I should hang up my things," she commented, and he stepped back from the case so she could get to it without coming too close to him.

"Anna..." he began, not really knowing how to begin.

A sickening silence filled the space between them as she waited for him to speak. Finally, she offered softly, "If you'd prefer, I can sleep downstairs."

The couch was small and narrow, too small even for her tiny frame. But he could see the shadows in her eyes and wondered if she suggested it out of hope that he would not want to share a bed with her.

"Is that what you wish?" he asked.

"My wishes don't matter," she answered quickly, unable to look at him. "I'd sleep in the garden if you asked it."

The very suggestion felt like a slap in the face.

"You think so little of me?" Bates demanded, his voice growing hoarse with restrained anger. Not at her - never at her - but at himself for bringing her so low.

Anna's eyes raised up to meet his. "That's not what I meant. Only... I think few men would welcome a cheating wife back into the marital home so easily. And I think I have a long way to go to regain your trust."

His heart wrenched at her words. "I still don't understand-" he began, but she turned away from him, the sudden movement ending his question.

As he regarded Anna in profile, her posture so perfect that it looked like it hurt to stand so straight, Bates wondered if she truly wanted to be here. Perhaps she had fallen in love with Green - an instant, undeniable love - and his absence over the past weeks had been the source of her misery?

_And she's only here because of the vows she made to me. Or she's afraid. She told Mrs. Hughes that she knew what I would do..._

"Anna," he addressed her quietly, "I would never make you stay with me, not against your will. If I can't make you happy... if you wish to leave me, I won't force you to stay."

Her expression of forced calm crumpled almost instantly. Grimacing from some inner pain, Anna put a hand up to her cover her mouth as she began to quietly sob. The tears seemed to pull from deep within her as they racked her body with waves of unseen force.

The need to comfort her was almost overwhelming, but Bates forced himself to hang back. What right had he to touch her now?

After crying for several moments under his uncomfortable gaze, Anna managed to quiet herself down to a few sniffles as she wiped away the tears with her palm.

Finally, she managed to say, with a broken voice and weak spirit, "I know you wouldn't. You're such a good man and I don't deserve you."

Unable to continue watching her suffering while doing nothing, Bates took a step towards her. He reached out his hand to touch the side of her face as he said her name. "Anna..."

Her eyes closed suddenly like shutters slammed shut before a storm. More tears were forced out onto her cheeks as he saw her body stiffen even more. She looked ready to run, to take flight like an injured animal. And her forehead creased into a deep line, as though she were anticipating a blow.

Anna had just braced herself for a strike, Bates realized, letting his hand fall back to his side. Bile rose up in the back of his throat as he watched her stand stock still, waiting, forcing her body not to flinch away.

A second or two passed and Anna opened her eyes again. Her expression betrayed a momentary confusion, as though she had not expected to see him standing in front of her, his face awash with horror at her reaction.

Forcing the words from his lips, he stated harshly, "I love you. And I would never, ever hurt you, Anna, no matter what you've done. I swear it on my soul."

She looked away from him in embarrassment. "I know." Her voice far from normal, she quickly added, "We should get ready to go sleep."

She stepped around him back to her bag and began pulling out the clothing she'd been wearing of late at the house.

Bates simply watched her for a time, letting his eyes follow her movements as she put the lady's maid dresses away. Then she ironed his shirt for the next morning, her small hands working diligently on the task even as he undressed and readied himself for bed. When she was done laying out the next day's clothes for both of them, Anna changed in the wash room, apparently still too uncomfortable to let him see her undressed. She was gone for some time and when she returned, he could see fresh tear stains on her cheeks.

"Are you all right?" he asked her.

Gracing him with a forced smile, Anna answered cryptically, "I think I will be."

She slept beside him in their bed that night, and he was able to content himself with the sound of her steady breathing and the warmth she radiated from her side under the covers. While he had trouble falling asleep, she seemed to do so almost immediately, exhaustion overtaking her and dragging her into a deep slumber. Whatever fears she harbored were shed with consciousness.

Sometime in the night, she must have woken. He could instantly feel the tension in her, could hear her thoughts as though she'd spoken them aloud. Gently, carefully, he reached his hand out to hers. His fingers grazed across her skin and Bates waited for her to pull away from him. Despite her words of love and commitment to him, the fact that she could not bear his touch was bound to doom their marriage.

But Anna did not pull away from him. In the dark silence of their bedroom, she curled her hand into his, letting their fingers intertwine. She sighed softly before falling back asleep, the sound of her breath evening out once more. He simply listened to her for a time, letting his mind and body dwell on the contact of their hands. While he wanted nothing more than to pull her fully into his arms, this would have to be enough for now.

* * *

Anna told Mrs. Hughes about her relocation the next morning, finding the housekeeper alone in her sitting room. But as she explained matters, paying particular care to praise Mr. Bates' generosity of spirit, Mrs. Hughes' frown deepened.

"You should tell him the truth, Anna," she appealed.

The lady's maid shook her head. "This is the truth, Mrs. Hughes," she told the other woman. "This is my truth now and I must own it. My husband has forgiven me and he is prepared to put this behind us."

"And what if he goes after Mister Green?"

"I don't think he will," Anna stated. "I think I convinced him that I was as much at fault as..." She faltered. "...as the other party."

"And if Mister Green comes back to Downton?"

Anna took a breath. "We'll have to cross that bridge when we arrive at it."

"I don't think deceiving Mister Bates in this way is at all right," Mrs. Hughes fretted. "But at least it will let you be back together again."

"I have a great deal to atone for, but yes, at least we're back together," she agreed.

The housekeeper slowly shook her head, disliking the deception and Anna's willingness to accept such blame for a sin she did not commit. She wondered if in fooling Mr. Bates, the younger woman was also trying to fool herself, to deal with the trauma she had endured. But it wasn't healthy for her, surely.

The housekeeper ran into Bates a short time later.

"Anna has told me that you two are... working things out," Mrs. Hughes ventured gently. He'd seemed so distraught when he'd asked her to reveal Anna's secret that she could not help but check on him after this latest development.

"Did Anna tell you what happened?" he asked.

She paused to consider before answering. "She told me she had committed a grievous wrong against you, one it may take a long time to forgive. If you ever can."

Bates shook his head. Bitterly and with a voice full of grief, he said, "She says that, but... how can I not forgive her? I can barely conceive of her doing what she says she did. The only way I know is because of how she acted afterwards, so guilty and miserable. I can't imagine how she would ever _choose _to do such a thing, not when it has left her like this."

Mrs. Hughes sighed at his confusion. "I know Anna regrets what happened..." she began, not certain what she could say.

His eyes went to hers, narrowing with suspicion. "You don't sound like you find any of this very scandalous. You know more than you're saying, don't you, Mrs. Hughes?"

"I only know what Anna has told me," she responded quickly. "And she told me what she told you."

He shook his head. "What I don't understand is _why_. Why would she do this? She says she still loves me, but how can she...?"

The housekeeper afforded him a sympathetic expression as she attempted, "Things can happen, Mister Bates, in the heat of the moment. Things we don't mean and regret later, very much."

Bates watched her, his gaze tight and appraising. "Has she ever said anything to you," he asked, "about being... unhappy with me?"

"I'm sure she hasn't, Mister Bates."

"She says I did nothing to drive her away, but I must have done something. Or didn't do something I should have."

"It is no use playing this 'what if' game," she told him. "You will find no answers and it will only leave you miserable. If you can forgive Anna, then do so and move on with your lives. If you can't bring yourself to get over what she's done, then tell her so."

He ran his hand across his face, his expression one of utter defeat.

"I have to forgive her," Bates said. "At first I was angry, but the more I think about it, the less I feel as though she's done me a wrong. I know what she's said, but I don't believe it, not in my heart. I know what betrayal feels like, and this isn't it."

He took a shaky breath. "But even if she has been unfaithful to me, even then... I can't live without her, Mrs. Hughes. She offered to leave me, to go away..."

Mrs. Hughes held her breath waiting for him to go on.

Sighing painfully, he admitted, "I think I'd forgive her anything, anything at all, just to keep her in my life."

"Then it sounds like you have your answer," she suggested.

"I just... I worry that this is a symptom of a greater problem," Bates stated. "What if this happened because deep down, she regrets marrying me? She seems so unhappy. And if she prefers this other man..."

Mrs. Hughes' expression mirrored his own sadness. "I know that Anna loves you very much, Mister Bates. I don't think she regrets marrying you in the least. Unfortunately, this is a difficult situation for you both. She needs your patience and your unconditional love if she is to get through this."

Bates looked at the housekeeper for a moment after she'd finished speaking. She suddenly realized how much she was framing the situation in Anna's favor, speaking as though he needed to support his wife even though he should have been considered the wronged party.

"She has it," he said thoughtfully. Whatever else was on his mind in that instant, he kept to himself.

* * *

TBC


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: Thank you to everyone for your reviews. This version of the S4 storyline has been somewhat nerve wracking to write in trying to maintain both characters' feelings and perspectives. I love reading your thoughts and reactions and truly appreciate the feedback.**

* * *

She sat next to him for meals at the house. While in the past they sometimes sat across from one another - Anna said she enjoyed looking into his eyes - she now tended to choose the empty seat next to him. The other servants adapted to the preference unconsciously and there was always an spot for her by her husband.

He asked her about it once, why she changed to sitting next to him rather than across the table. The question left her looking uncertain as she answered, "I prefer being nearer to you."

Her strange behavior persisted over the following days, and Bates had trouble understanding it. Sometimes she wanted nothing more than to be close to him, to spend time in his presence. Other times, she disappeared entirely and he could find her no where in the house. She would snap at him or grow sharp in her responses, and then moments later apologize profusely. Her emotions bubbled just under the surface, sometimes flaring up and bringing her to tears over something seemingly small or insignificant.

As well, Anna wore her guilt like a heavy mantle and slowly, over time, it physically wore her down, slumping her shoulders and bowing her head. Bates wished she would stop torturing herself on his account. Her regret and evident self hate had begun to frighten him.

And he wondered if her fragile emotional state was due to some other issue he did not understand. Was she heartbroken over the departure of the man she'd been with?

Anna gave no indication of missing Green, he noticed, but he had no way to be sure. Even if she had some lingering feelings for the valet, she showed every indication of trying to make their marriage work. Despite her underlying misery, Anna returned to the patterns of their daily life cooking and cleaning around the house. In addition to her own chores, she often performed his as well.

"I'm going to get some coal for the stove," he said one evening as she prepared them a pot of tea before retiring for the evening.

"I can do that," she offered even though Bates had always performed the task.

He shook his head at her. "You don't have to do everything," he reminded her. "You are not a slave."

Regretting the words as soon as they left his lips, he watched as she reacted. Her face fell, the clouds behind her eyes darkening them with pain. The awkwardness between them which he'd been so desperately combating returned immediately.

"I like doing things for you," she offered after a moment, her voice both downtrodden and hopeful.

He sighed in frustration. "You have nothing to prove to me, Anna."

"I have everything to prove."

"No," Bates said strongly, drawing out his words, "you do not."

He stepped towards her, careful to move slowly so as not to frighten her. To his relief, she met his gaze and did not look away. "May I touch you?" he asked. "Please?"

Anna nodded, although her expression betrayed some misgivings. "Of course," she said unconvincingly.

Reaching out his hands to cup both sides of her face, Bates leaned down towards her so that he could look in her eyes without looming above her. "I love you," he told her sincerely and without regret. "That's all that matters to me. Everything else is in the past."

She looked ready to disintegrate before his eyes.

"Do you still love me?" he pressed.

"I told you before-"

"I know what you've said, Anna," Bates interrupted her. Her stature slumped at the doubt in his statement, and he let his hands move down to rest on her shoulders. The tension there was too much; she faintly quivered at his touch, and not in a pleasant way. Removing his hands from her, he said, "But the way you are with me tells me otherwise."

Clearly uncomfortable, Anna took a deep breath before revealing painfully, "I'm no good for you. I don't know how to make myself worthy again, but I'm trying..."

To emphasize her point, she reached out for his hands, taking them in her own before giving them a gentle, reassuring squeeze. The fact that she initiated the contact, that she touched him, gave him more hope than he could express.

"You've never been unworthy," Bates told her, shaking his head. "What's happened... I want us to begin again. And you don't need to do anything but love me, Anna. If you love me, that's more than enough."

Blinking back the moisture beginning to accumulate in her eyes, she affirmed, "I do love you. That's never changed."

Rewarding her statement with a smile, Bates let her go back to making the tea as he went outside to get the coal.

* * *

Unfortunately, moving back into the cottage did not dispel Anna's nightmares. Mercifully, in the time since she'd been back, John had managed to sleep through it when she woke up thrashing or calling out. But that night brought a new nightmare as she woke up, her long night gown drenched in sweat and her heart beating so hard she thought it would burst from her chest. The only images that remained with her as she sat up in bed were of Green's face in hers and an overwhelming darkness pressing in on her. Anna could hear his voice reverberating through the unlit servants' hall and kitchen. While she tried to run from him, he found her, the feel of his hand slapping her across the face the final image which threw her into consciousness.

"Are you all right?" Bates asked, sitting up next to her. Anna realized she was still breathing hard from the nightmare, her hand held over her heart.

"I'm fine," she told him. "Just a bad dream."

"You've been having those a lot," he observed.

Anna frowned, realizing suddenly that she must have woken him with her nightmares more than she thought.

"Probably my guilty conscience," she said quietly.

Ignoring the comment, Bates asked, "Do you want to talk about it?"

Shaking her head, Anna forced herself to stay calm despite the overwhelming desire to dissolve into tears. She'd subjected him to enough of her crying to last a lifetime. After all, he was supposed to be the victim in this situation, not her.

"Anna... I hope you know that you can tell me anything," he said softly. "I promise not to judge you."

She squeezed her eyes closed, fighting the urge to tell him the truth. Not only did she hate lying to him, but she hated this divide she'd put between them. He believed she'd betrayed him in the worst way possible, and yet he still cared about her. Her wonderful husband sat behind her listening to her nightmares when he should have no obligation to give her any comfort.

"You have every right to judge me," she contradicted, "after what I've done."

"Please stop punishing yourself, Anna," Bates said. "I already told you that I've forgiven you. I wish now that you would forgive yourself."

Anna let out a small snort of derision. "It feels like I've gotten off very easy in this. Honestly, I'd rather you be angry at me now and we try to work through it than for it to fester and linger."

She could feel him shift in the bed as he moved slightly closer to her. "How can I be angry at you?" he asked. "This has caused you so much misery already. And I still believe that I share in the blame for this. Nothing you say will lead me to think otherwise."

She simply shook her head. "Of course, you of all people would fault yourself for me hurting you so. You are not to blame, John, not in the slightest. I know you want to believe me incapable of such evil, but I am. I am a terrible, selfish person. And now we both suffer the consequences."

"You are a good person, Anna... _He_ is to blame," Bates stated, unable to say the name aloud. Anna never confirmed it, but they both knew her 'lover' was Green. "He seduced you. He led you astray-"

"My shame is my own," Anna interrupted forcefully. "I take responsibility for my own actions. I never should have let things go so far."

"You still won't confirm who he was? I deserve to know."

She recognized that he had a point, but she would not risk him doing something foolish to Green even if he believed she'd consented to what happened that night.

Anna shook her head, refusing to confirm it. "Just know that I love you. And I love you enough to spare you the answer to your question."

She felt her husband shift in the bed beside her. A moment later, his hand was on her shoulder. Anna did not flinch, but rather she shivered at his warm touch. Carefully, gradually, sensing no resistance from her, Bates pulled her to him, wrapping his strong arms around her. She collapsed into his embrace, burying her face against his broad chest.

After a time, he gently laid them back down in the bed with her pulled firmly against him. Anna fell asleep, her nightmares dispelled for a time by the comfort of his arms and the familiar heat of his body.

* * *

While Mrs. Hughes disliked the lie Anna had shouldered in dealing with her husband, she was encouraged by the lady's maid's quick withdrawal from the shadows of her own misery. Moving back into the cottage did her good, as did her renewed relationship with her husband.

But Mr. Bates watched his wife closely, the housekeeper noticed. His eyes were always on her, his face betraying a mixture of grief and love so deep that it hurt to witness. Anna had told Mrs. Hughes that he continued to doubt himself despite her insistence that the blame was all hers.

"Its like he can't even believe it of me, even after I confessed," the younger woman said fretfully.

"Who could?" she asked pointedly. "Its no surprise to me that it doesn't sit well with Mister Bates. You aren't capable of such a thing."

Her face was like stone as she responded, "I'm capable of a great many things, Mrs. Hughes."

She remembered Anna's words not long after the attack as she'd justified her coldness towards her husband. _Better a broken heart than a broken neck._

"You aren't capable of being deliberately unfaithful to your husband," she shot back. "And deep down, he knows it."

Anna twisted the ring on her left hand and sighed. "I stupidly hoped that this would be easier, but I'm causing him such pain. I thought perhaps I could earn back his trust and forgiveness over time, and maybe someday... but he blames _himself_. I don't know how he can twist this in his mind to believe he somehow failed me when I've committed such evil against him."

"You've done nothing wrong," Mrs. Bates reminded her.

"But I have. I made this happen. Perhaps I should have just gone away when I knew I wasn't with child."

"I think that would have hurt him worse, I'm afraid."

Anna shook her head slightly. "It was selfish to stay, to put this on him. He deserves better from me. But I can't leave now."

"Then there's nothing for it but to get through it as best you can," Mrs. Hughes advised. "And try not to be so hard on yourself. You are the victim in this, don't forget."

Anna stood there still and pensive. Suddenly, a wave of emotion broke through her and her calm dissolved into quiet tears.

"I'm not a victim," she sobbed. "And I don't want him to see me that way."

"Oh, Anna," the housekeeper said, moving to pull the young woman into her arms. "You need Mr. Bates' love and comfort, now more than ever. If you would only tell him the truth..."

The lady's maid pulled away from her. She did not bother to dry her eyes as she answered, "I can't bear the thought of what he'd do if he knew the truth. And what right do I have to put him in such a position? He'd kill for my honor, Mrs. Hughes. I know he would. He wouldn't even think about what they'd do to him for it."

Shaking her head, Anna affirmed, "What happened is still my fault, no matter how it happened. And I won't let him pay with his life for my mistake. I'd rather give him up and leave here than watch him executed."

* * *

TBC


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: I'm playing fast and loose with the show's timeline, so please forgive any unintended discrepancies. As this is an AU fic, keeping strictly to the show's canon isn't as important.**

**Once again, I'm very appreciative of the reviews for this story. Please continue to leave your thoughts and feedback!**

**To be on the safe side, I'm going to put a trigger warning on this chapter.**

* * *

Bates felt grateful that Lord Grantham elected to take Thomas to America rather than him, although the choice confused him. He had no wish to leave Anna while their marriage was in the midst of such turmoil, but he could not use that as an excuse to his Lordship. And he could not tell him the truth. Not only would Bates never betray Anna's honor in such a way, but sharing such a personal trial with someone he admired and respected as much as his employer was simply impossible.

Deciding that Mrs. Hughes must have had a hand in it, Bates did not press either her or Anna for explanations. But it rapidly became clear that Anna was not involved in the decision. She'd lamented the loss of the trip to America as an opportunity for him to see new places and have new experiences. But at the same time, he could see the relief in her eyes that he would not be leaving.

Still, her guilt and shame continued to be evident. She wore them like a scarlet letter on her chest and never tried to pass the blame for her conduct onto anyone else. Her regrets were so palpable that it almost physically pained him to see them reflected in her face. It was as though he and Anna were both stuck in a circle of self recrimination, neither willing to admit the responsibility of the other, and yet neither able to get over what had caused the rift between them. Ultimately, for all his hurt at the betrayal, Bates's only concern was for her.

But over time, as the weeks slipped by, she started to get better. She smiled more and more, and she even laughed once in a while. After a long time, she completely stopped shrinking from his touch and after an even longer while, she actively sought it out. They had not been intimate, nor even kissed since the house party, but he counted each brush of her hand against his as a victory. Each night that she did not hesitate before crawling into bed next to him was a triumph.

As they worked at the house together, their relationship felt like a return to the days before his freedom from Vera, when their affection was hidden and measured. Anna talked with him, sat next to him at table, confided in him... Sometimes, they slipped into a moment of total understanding and Bates was able to forget about his ever-present doubts and worries.

"We should go out to dinner," Anna suggested hopefully one evening.

"If you like."

They had not been out on a date in a long time, he considered. Too often, they fell into the routines of work and life and thoughts of romance fell to the sidelines. Before all this happened, when was the last time he'd told her how beautiful she was or how lucky he was to be her husband? They exchanged cards on Saint Valentine's day, but one day a year was not enough. Did she feel unappreciated or taken for granted?

Bates wondered if that could have contributed to her dalliance with Green, the need for romance. He'd been ugly in his jealousy over the valet's attentions to his wife. Only the confirmation that he was right to be concerned kept him from feeling shame over his feelings. Perhaps if he'd asserted himself more strongly, Anna would not have succumbed to Green's attentions.

_Were they only together once? Or was it more? Where did it happen? When? Green was only at Downton during the house party..._

The questions he could never ask her plagued him, as did the reason behind her infidelity. But he'd resolved to move past it and had every intention of doing so.

"Actually, I think that's an excellent idea," he added with enthusiasm. He caught Anna's eyes with his and she smiled at him.

The plans were easily made. They took time off so infrequently that no one begrudged them the evening dinner hours. The only snafu in the evening came with the apparently loss of their reservation, although Bates could tell the man simply did not wish to seat them. Her Ladyship proved their saving grace as she bullied the host into providing them a table, and for once, Bates felt no compunctions about accepting the assistance.

Anna wanted a night out at a nice restaurant and Bates would ensure she had it. Perhaps if he had paid more attention to her simple needs before, the incident with Green would not have occurred. And yet... he could not count her as so fickle. Surely there was more to it.

They chatted easily through the meal, discussing gossip from the house as well as books and current events. Anna told him about her plans for improving the garden, and he promised to help. Making plans for their future lightened his heart and eased the pain of her infidelity. For a time, they were their old selves again without the distance and shadow of another between them.

"Thank you for this," she told him as they finished their meal. She'd offered to pay for the dinner because it was her idea, but he would not hear of it.

"Of course," Bates answered, pleased that she seemed happy at the evening out.

Quietly, almost shyly, Anna asked, "Is there anything I can do for you?"

He swallowed at her mildly flirtatious tone, not sure how he should react. Part of him wanted nothing more than to accept the love in her eyes and fall back into the blissful ignorance of her obvious affection. But a deeper part of him, a dark seed of doubt inside his soul, advised against it.

_She will hurt you again, _it whispered. _She does not really love you, not if she would be with another._

"You can tell me why," he said finally. There had to be a reason, and it gnawed at him endlessly not to know.

His request instantly destroyed the moment and all hope for the remainder of a pleasant evening. Anna's face betrayed utter devastation as he reminded her of what she'd clearly been hoping to forget.

"I've told you..." she began with a sigh.

"Not _why_. You never told me the reason."

Shaking her head, she said, "I didn't have a reason. It just happened."

"Surely there was something missing between us, something you needed-"

Anna held up a hand to quiet him. "Please stop," she begged, her voice sharp in the quiet atmosphere of the restaurant. Looking at him, she forced her face into a mask of calm before continuing. "I wish I could give you a reason. Truly, I do. But sometimes things happen and you don't know why..."

She took a deep breath before pressing on. "I should have discouraged him right at the beginning. I was wrong in that and I regret it. Had I realized it would lead to this..."

Anna looked away, her face in shadow even in the well lit dining room. Whatever else she might have said was lost as Lady Grantham approached their table and offered them a ride home. The car ride proved awkward as neither spoke much except to answer questions from her Ladyship and make polite conversation.

Bates wanted to broach the subject again when they returned to the cottage later that evening, but Anna moved about their home clearing and cleaning dishes from tea and preparing for the next day. Her agitation saddened him because Bates recognized it was her way to avoid him and his question. She looked on the verge of tears, so he held his tongue, unwilling to upset her further.

"Anna..." he said as she finally finished up in the kitchen, and she turned to face him. Her expression betrayed the knowledge of what he wanted.

"I can't make sense of it for you," she told him sadly. "I wish I could. I've tried so many times, but..."

"Just tell me _something_," he requested. "Tell me how you felt or what it meant to you..."

Desperately, he clung to the notion that something, some detail about this act which stood so painfully between them would cast light onto it and explain away his confusion and feelings of betrayal. If only he could understand it, how his wife who loved him so selflessly for so long would do such a thing, only to despise and punish herself for it afterwards. It made no sense.

Anna met his eyes as she responded hauntingly, "How I felt? I felt like an adulterer, worthless and fallen. It meant nothing to me but shame. I knew as it was happening that the taint of it would never leave me, would never leave you. And truly, I don't think you can ever understand my regret."

Without waiting for his response, she turned and moved to pass him on her way to the stairs up to their bedroom. But before she could get more than a few steps, he reached out to stop her.

"I'm sorry," he told her, recognizing that her words held more truth and meaning than he could comprehend. Continuing to press the issue would bring him nothing and her only more agony.

Anna nodded, wordlessly accepting his apology. She looked beautiful in the lamp light despite her sadness. On a whim, he leaned towards her.

The kiss was gentle, a mere touch of their lips. And incredibly, Anna did not pull away from him. She froze momentarily, but she did not retreat. He moved back just enough to see her face, to take in her still-closed eyes and surprised expression. Her lips were parted slightly in a little smile and he could make out a faint blush on her cheeks.

It was their first kiss in months, the first one since Bates found out about _him_. And Anna did not seem displeased with it.

Emboldened by her response, he kissed her again, this time more fully. He let his hand wrap around the back of her neck, his fingers sliding along the wisps of blonde hair which escaped their usual bun. But he kept his touch gentle and light in case she pulled away.

Instead, Anna responded to his kiss, wrapping her own arms around him and pulling him closer. As she melted against him, the tension in her gradually slipped away. Bates lost himself in the warmth of her body and the taste of her mouth, priceless pleasures he had not realized he needed as much as air to breath. When they finally did break apart, Anna beamed at him with both love and a shade of pride which he did not fully understand.

She said with obvious pleasure, "That was lovely, thank you."

And then for good measure, she wrapped her arms around him again, hugging him fiercely, as though she were delighting in her ability to touch him so openly once again.

"No, thank you," he responded sincerely, wrapping his arm around her.

His mind churned as he thought about her response to him, both in words and in body. It lay heavy on his consciousness even after they'd retired to bed and turned off the lights, she on her side and he on his.

* * *

He'd kissed her and she enjoyed it.

Anna felt liberated in the feeling, actually. For one pure moment, thoughts of that terrible night had not invaded her senses and filled her with renewed horror of a memory she'd rather bury. For once, she could enjoy her husband's company without that vile man's shadow standing between them.

She lay in bed late into the night thinking about it. Despite her flashbacks and anxiety lessening over the prior weeks, for the first time since the attack, she finally felt real hope. Her husband had forgiven her - she truly felt it during their earlier conversation. And after so many lies and half truths, he seemed to finally understand that there was nothing he'd done to prompt her alleged infidelity. When she'd first confessed to the crime, Anna did not think about him blaming himself. Nor had she considered how much it would weigh on him, wanting to know why she would do such a thing. Part of her had assumed he would simply grow angry and blame her for such treachery.

She should have known he'd view her supposed actions as a reflection on him. As if he had any failings... John Bates was a perfect husband - kind and gentle and thoughtful beyond belief. They rarely quarreled because he gave in to her every whim, only growing cross with her when she did too much or would not let him assist her. The only worry he brought Anna was of what he would do if he found out about what really happened with Mr. Green.

_He'll murder him. I know he will._

Anna had foreseen that exact scenario even as the first blow of Green's hand drove her backwards against the sink. The moment she told Mr. Bates of it, he would kill the valet or make him wish he was dead. But as the attack progressed and Anna lost herself to pain and fear, she could not help but hide herself in worry over her husband's reaction. Focusing on his safety allowed her to remove herself from the utter destruction of her own. It was not enough that Green had violated her, but he'd foreclosed the very foundation of her security, her husband.

For a long time, Anna had feared that she would bring about Mr. Bates' ruin. The irrational fear stirred in the back of her mind after she met him again at the pub in Kirbymooreside. Anna knew that he'd gone with Vera to protect her, and as the truth unfolded, her fears were realized. He even confessed to her some time later that protecting the Crawley family was only secondary to his concern for her. He would not let Vera ruin her reputation with scandal, not when he had the ability to protect her. And then when he'd gone to jail over Vera's death, her suicide intended to frame him...

As much as she hated to believe her husband was capable of murdering Green, Anna knew him. She also knew that she had to keep him safe from his own actions. Lying was difficult, and she hated herself for being untruthful, but she found that in some ways, she was much like her husband. He would kill to protect her, and she would lie to keep him safe.

But after so many weeks full of lies, she felt as though she'd finally come upon a light at the end of the tunnel. It had been so hard to hide her emotions and reactions from her husband, even more so than the bruises she'd covered with long night gowns and high collared dresses. He could read her so well sometimes, but in this she operated under a veil of very real guilt. Finally, just as she was losing the ability to hold it in place, he seemed to accept and move past it.

"I think... we may actually have a future again," Anna told Mrs. Hughes soon after. She'd been confiding in the housekeeper more and more of late even though the other woman still wanted her to be truthful with Mr. Bates.

They had almost had a falling out when Mrs. Hughes intervened in the matter of Mr. Bates accompanying his Lordship to America. While Anna still did not know how the woman had managed to convince Lord Grantham to take Thomas instead, she suspected that Lady Mary was involved in the scheme. Part of her wished he had gone, if for no other reason than to distance him from the pain she'd caused. But if Anna were being honest, she doubted she could have survived the past weeks without him there, his solid and comforting presence a bright light in the darkness.

"I'm so glad."

She smiled to herself at Mrs. Hughes' obvious relief. The housekeeper had been so worried for her, she knew. In truth, Anna had been worried about her own well being. Her thoughts often grew dark and despondent, especially at the notion of her husband finding out the truth. But confessing to him her feelings about the attack - even if he did not know it was an attack - left her a little more free. Somewhere in the depths of her lies, her mind had thrown everything into a jumble and left her with more guilt than she could stand.

But he still loved her. And he still wanted her. She knew it by the way he'd kissed her. And what was even more of a surprise, she still wanted him. Even with the shadow of her trauma lurking in the back of her mind, she could still feel attraction to the one man who meant more to her than anything in all the world.

"We're still making our way through," Anna said aloud. "But I believe everything will be all right in the end."

Mrs. Hughes readily agreed, "I'm sure of it."

But a short time later as Anna entered the servant's hall and came suddenly face to face with her attacker, the life she'd been so meticulously rebuilding shattered around her.

* * *

TBC


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: And now for the chapter that everyone has been waiting for (I think)...**

**And drop me a review, let me know what you think.**

* * *

Bates did not dislike Lady Mary, not really. But he despised the fact that the return of her suitor, Lord Gillingham, to Downton necessitated the return of the gregarious Mr. Green. Bates despised the man, not just because he'd flirted with Anna and followed her around like a lovesick lad the last time he'd been at the house. No, he knew Green was the man Anna had been with, the man who'd seduced her into a sin which caused her so much suffering. Even if she hadn't all but admitted his identity as her paramour, Bates knew it was him as surely as he knew the color of the sky or the difference between a wolf and a lamb. Green's smugness was written all over his features.

The valet's sudden appearance at Downton startled Anna - that much was clear to Bates. All the progress she'd made in relaxing and growing more free with her affections abruptly ended upon Green entering the house. She seemed to completely shut down when he was around.

However things had ended between her and the visiting valet, Anna obviously had no wish to start them back up again. Bates could see burning shame and even fear in her eyes the few moments she was in Green's company. At dinner, she insisted on sitting beside her husband, although at the last moment Green took the seat across from her. She barely ate and made no conversation.

Bates expected to feel jealousy, looking from Green to his wife, but that was not the emotion which gripped his heart. Rather, anger roared up from within, a sort of primal rage which stayed at a full burn the entire time Green was in the house.

_Anna was relieved to know she would not be having a child with this man, _Bates recalled. She regretted being with him, possibly more than any action she'd ever taken in her life. And when Anna and Green sat at the same table, there was no tension or attraction expressed between them. Anna ignored the valet studiously, going out of her way to keep from even looking at him.

Something was not right.

Green talked endlessly, chatting with Jimmy and Miss Baxter like he was some sort of small-time celebrity. While Anna studiously turned her attention elsewhere, Mrs. Hughes' lack of regard for the man could not be ignored - she glared at him as though he were some sort of foul, loathsome creature. Considering how generally liberal Bates knew the housekeeper to be on some things - like Thomas' proclivities - he found that very odd. If Mrs. Hughes had afforded Anna little censure over her role in the adulterous relationship, why should she cast such vitriol on Green?

Bates swallowed dryly, a bitter taste rising up in the back of his throat as a terrible feeling settled in his stomach. He had misjudged some part of this equation, but he could not yet put his finger on what was wrong.

He looked from Green back to Anna, seated at his side, and gave her a smile. She answered with a small smile of her own and a second later, he felt her hand find his under the table and give it a gentle squeeze. Bates looked back at his wife, this time taking the time to really examine her features.

She looked so lovely, despite the dark circles under her eyes - continuing souvenirs from too many nights plagued with nightmares. But her love for him shined through despite her clear fatigue and the touch of nervousness he could make out in the set of her jaw.

And in that moment, Bates knew - he knew as surely as he knew anything - that Anna had not been unfaithful to him. He'd known it all along, really. And yet, for some reason, she'd allowed him to believe her guilty. Not only had she blamed herself to an unhealthy degree, but she'd offered to leave Downton, to leave her husband and her home.

And just as suddenly, he recalled the bruises and blood on Anna's face the night of the concert. Her tone as she'd told him about the fall was the same as when she'd confessed to adultery. She lied so little that he sometimes did not recognize it, but in hindsight, it was unmistakable.

Green was saying something about the night of the concert and going downstairs to get away from it. It registered in Bates' mind at the same moment everything else clicked into place.

Anna looked at him, and he saw a flicker of something in her eyes. Returning her smile, Bates schooled his features to hide the burgeoning thoughts and feelings which were growing exponentially within him. The fork he held in his hand quivered violently as he struggled to keep his emotions in check.

Looking across the table at the valet once more, Bates finally understood.

* * *

He waited until Anna was upstairs attending to Lady Mary before following Mr. Green to the boot room. With Lord Grantham in America, his duties were more flexible so he could time his hours as he liked. He did not understand how they'd managed to convince Lady Mary to prevail on his Lordship to take Thomas instead, but he was grateful not to be separated from Anna at such a time. Particularly now that he felt he'd finally learned the truth behind what happened. Lord Grantham would counsel him to keep his temper in check, as he had with Vera, and there was no chance of that.

The valet sat polishing shoes, exuding a sense of superiority in the activity that Bates detested. Service was a good profession, even now with the world changing and fewer opportunities for a position. Bates took pride in it, even enjoyed looking after Lord Grantham, but this man clearly viewed it as a job, a means to an end.

"Good evening, Mister Gillingham," he stated as he entered the room. The other man looked up from his polishing but did not stand.

He betrayed no fear, but was that a shadow of concern in his eyes?

"Evening, Mister Bates," the man returned, his voice dripping in unconcealed mocking.

Bates did not bother pulling out a pair of shoes to clean, did not feel the pretense necessary. He simply stood there, leaning slightly on his cane. The man clearly underestimated him and had from the beginning. There was no need to combat that now, not when it would work in Bates' favor.

Several moments passed before the valet realized the other man was still standing there, staring at him, watching his shoddy work on the shoes he was polishing. "Can I help you?" he was forced to ask when the awkwardness became too much.

"You can, actually."

Again, he let the silence inform the tone of the conversation. When it finally got to be too much, Green prompted, "Well go ahead then. I haven't got all night."

Bates inclined his head and briefly locked his jaw in anger. To the other valet, it likely resembled a tight-lipped smile. "I wanted to discuss with you your behavior towards my wife when last you were here."

Green's eyebrows shot up. "Oh? And what behavior is that?"

"I think you know."

"Mister Bates?"

Bate turned at the sound of Mrs. Hughes' voice. She stood in the doorway of the boot room and he could see a nervousness in her eyes as she glanced between him and Green. She knew. And she knew what he was about to do.

"Yes, Mrs. Hughes?" he asked, keeping his voice level and measured.

"I was wondering if you'd like to have tea with me while you wait for Anna."

She shot him a piercing look full of meaning, one he could not pretend to ignore. Bates turned his head to look back at the slimy Mr. Green. The man's smirk galled him and he tightened his grip on the handle of his cane until his knuckles went white.

Before he could compose an excuse to refuse her, she went on, "I would appreciate having a word with you."

Her tone was absolute, and he could not refuse. Besides, he would still have an opportunity to confront Mr. Green later. He only regretted that the man was now tipped off.

"Of course," he forced himself to say, pushing away the frustration at having his intended conversation with the valet postponed.

He followed her slowly, almost resentfully. The housekeeper shut the door to her sitting room behind them, an insight in and of itself. Bates realized suddenly that Anna must have told the woman what really happened with Green. No wonder Mrs. Hughes was so supportive of his wife. To her, Anna's conduct had never been in question. He slowly reviewed every word that had been said to him on the matter, and he realized how easy it was to omit a truth with very few direct lies told.

"What can I do for you, Mrs. Hughes?" he said as she took the seat across from him.

"You can start by not doing something you might regret - for you and Anna."

He breathed out a sharp, angry breath. "And what do you know of the matter?" he asked, hurt that Anna had obviously confided the truth in her but not him.

"I can't betray Anna's trust," Mrs. Hughes answered carefully.

"Not even to me?"

She shook her head. "Especially not to you."

Exasperated, he demanded, "Then why don't I guess the truth. You don't have to say anything. I'm sure I can tell by your response alone."

The housekeeper frowned at him fretfully. "Actually, Mister Bates, I called you in here to tell you something else. Something you should know before going forward with this."

"Oh?"

"I've known Anna for a long time, longer than you have. She's always been a hard worker with a good head on her shoulders. I think that's why, when it became clear that you and she had made an arrangement despite you having a living wife, everyone left her alone about it. It was clear well before then how much she cared about you, loved you. She's a sweet girl, but I've never seen her care about anyone so much as you."

Swallowing back his emotions, Bates began, "And what does this have to do with-"

"She was beside herself when you went away, Mister Bates," she cut him off. "And when you went to prison, that was so hard for her. You don't know because you weren't here, but it was - incredibly hard for her."

"I can imagine."

"Can you, Mister Bates?" Mrs. Hughes asked sharply. "Can you imagine how beside herself she was at the prospect of you being taken to the gallows? Or you spending your life in prison? She'd have done anything to get you out. And I make no qualifications on that statement. She would have done anything."

Sighing at the mental image of his wife's misery painted so vividly, he asked, "And what is this about?"

"This is about what would happen if you did what I think you were about to do in that room. And what your actions would mean to Anna."

"I would never do anything to hurt Anna," he defended sharply.

"I hope that's true. Because if you went back to prison, it would destroy her."

"Who said anything about-"

Interrupting him, she continued, "And I don't think the law makes exceptions for wronged husbands."

"Is that what you think I am, Mrs. Hughes, a wronged husband?" Bates demanded, suddenly tired of the subterfuge. "Because I know that's not what I am. What I am is a fool, and a cruel one at that. All this time, Anna has been trying to convince me that she did something wrong, that she is this horrible person who made a selfish choice in the heat of the moment. But it wasn't her choice, was it? He forced her."

If he needed confirmation, Mrs. Hughes' expression was enough. She made no comment, no attempt to deny it. She simply sat very still and quiet for a moment, her sad eyes focused on his.

"You don't have to say anything," he told her. "And I think I understand now why she kept the truth from me."

The housekeeper sighed. "Mister Bates, I think Anna would sooner end her own life than see you back in prison."

He grimaced at the thought of Anna harming herself. He'd worried about it since this all began, how wrecked she'd been and how utterly depressed.

"So you kept her secret."

"I had to." She sighed. "Anna thought it would be easier for you this way..."

He looked away, unable to meet her gaze as his worst fears solidified. Tears threatened to blank out his vision but he blinked them back.

_She _was_ raped. She was never unfaithful, not for one moment. _

His thoughts were harsh as he considered his own conduct. He'd blamed her. He'd asked her repeatedly why she would hurt him thus, and in doing so he'd forced her to perpetuate the lie - a lie she told solely to spare him.

No wonder she'd shied away from his touch so often in the beginning. No wonder she'd moved back into the house. Bates wondered how often he'd frightened her, how much of the trauma she had to relive and also hide from him. He was her husband, for God's sake! Why should she torture herself just to protect him?

"Do you need a moment, Mister Bates?" the housekeeper asked gently.

He shook his head. "No. She'll be coming downstairs soon and I want to be there to meet her."

Mrs. Hughes nodded and they both stood. She followed him into the corridor as he moved towards the stairs, still not quite in control of his emotions.

But as he left the sitting room, the sight which greeted him drove all thoughts from his head. Anna stood on the stairs, her hand clutching the railing tightly with her body turned slightly, as though to make herself smaller. She was blocked from descending by Mr. Green, who stood in front of her speaking in a low, harsh tone. All Bates heard was Anna's quaking voice as she said, "Let me by."

He moved without thinking.

In the flash of an eye, Green was up against the wall, Bates' arm held across his neck and his cane held aloft like a club in his other hand, ready to bludgeon the man. And just as quickly, Anna's hands were on that arm, holding it back with all her strength.

"Please don't," she begged in desperation.

A look passed between him and Green and in it was all the communication they would ever need to exchange. The moment stretched out long and unforgiving before Bates took a step back and let the man go, still piercing him with his eyes. He could feel Anna tugging on his arm, attempting to bodily pull him away, but she was too slight to move him. Rather, her panicked, "Please don't do this," managed to cut through the fog of his anger.

He took another step back from the valet, and rather than take the opportunity to escape, Green leered at him. "Need a woman to fight your battles then, do you?" he taunted.

Bates leaned forward again, but Anna's grip stayed tight on his arm.

"You will pay for what you've done," he told the valet, his voice low and dark, so low even Anna may not have heard.

With a look of smug indifference, Green turned and began walking away. Bates wanted to follow him, to tear him limb from limb and end his miserable existence. No one had ever deserved his wrath more, not his cell mate Craig or Vera or anyone else he'd ever encountered.

But Anna would not let go of his arm, her body anchoring his like a lifeline. Mrs. Hughes' calm voice was speaking, although he could not make out the words past the sound of his own blood rushing in his ears. He remembered what she'd said earlier about Anna's concerns of him doing something foolish and going to prison. The old soldier in him knew that now was not the time to pursue Green.

His revenge could wait.

Assuming an air of calmness he did not feel, he turned back to his wife and said, "I apologize. My jealousy got the best of me."

"You have no reason to be jealous, Mister Bates," she said with a shaky voice, her expression still full of fear. He noticed that tears had begun to fill her eyes. "Take me home," she requested desperately. "Would you please just take me home?"

"Yes, that's a good idea," Mrs. Hughes agreed quickly.

With a tight nod, Bates agreed. He gathered their things without preamble and bid the housekeeper goodnight.

* * *

TBC


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N: I really appreciated everyone's feedback on the last chapter. Reviews always make my day.**

**I believe this is the chapter so many of you have been anticipating, so let me know what you think.**

* * *

Anna calmed down considerably on the walk home from the house. By unspoken agreement, they did not discuss what had occurred in the corridor with Green.

Bates walked slowly on the path to the cottage, hanging back a few steps behind Anna as she unlocked the front door and entered their home. She began lighting the space of their sitting room. He hung up his coat and hat with deliberate care before following her into the kitchen where she'd began to prepare their evening tea, a nightly ritual.

"I find myself confused about something," he addressed her casually as he took a seat at the table. "Perhaps you can help me."

"I will if I can," she answered, looking at him nervously over her shoulder.

"Why would someone confess to doing something they didn't do?" Bates asked.

Anna stiffened at the question. Putting the kettle on the stove to boil, she turned back to him before answering, "You would know better than I. After all, you went to prison for a theft you did not commit. Why did you confess to Vera's crime?"

He shrugged. After considering for a moment, he said, "I suppose I did it out of guilt and a sense of responsibility."

"Well, there you have it," Anna stated. More quietly, she added, "And I'm sure you wanted to protect her."

"Yes, I did," Bates admitted. "That was my duty as her husband, to protect her."

"If only she'd been as good at protecting you," Anna said dryly.

"A wife has no duty to protect her husband."

Anna's brow wrinkled in surprise at his statement and she responded sharply, "Of course she does."

He stood up from the table and approached her. Anna looked at him with trepidation, but she did not back away. "I would never ask you to protect me, Anna."

Clearly confused, she said, "You wouldn't have to ask me. I would protect you with my life if I had to."

He took in a sharp breath at the raw emotion in her voice. Moving a step closer to her, he inquired, "You love me that much?"

"Of course I do."

"You love me enough to _die_ for me?" Bates asked, mentally willing her to say 'no,' to deny that level of commitment. Even a healthy amount of hesitation would lighten his heart. He did not want to believe she would sacrifice so much of herself, not for him. She'd already given up so much...

Anna watched him, her expression betraying uncertainty as to why he was asking these questions or why he had moved so close to her. "Yes, I do," she said, without guile or an ounce of untruthfulness.

He sighed.

"I believe you."

She nodded, looking from him back to the stove. But as she took the opportunity to escape his heated gaze, he added, "What I don't believe is that the woman who just professed to give her life for mine would ever be unfaithful to me. Not willingly."

Anna froze.

"I already explained..." she began in a calm, emotionless voice, "I made a terrible mistake."

"No, I am the one who was mistaken."

"You don't understand-" she began, but Bates cut her off.

"Green forced you, didn't he?"

Anna did not respond. She did not look at him. She did not move a muscle.

Her eyes Bates were focused on some empty piece of space. He finally realized as he saw her shudder violently that she was in the midst of a flashback. He placed a gentle hand on her shoulder, and the touch was enough to jar her back into the present. But one look at her husband left her dissolving into tears.

She moved back towards him and without conscious thought, he wrapped his arms protectively around her. Bates held her as she cried, great tearful sobs painful in both their anguish and intensity.

"Oh, my darling," he whispered.

* * *

Anna told him everything.

She described the events of that night - the true events - with broad strokes and few details, unwilling to let her nightmares spread to him. But after lying to him and hiding the truth for months, she was finally able to unburden herself and tell him everything else. Her unending guilt. Her fear of Green which bled into her interactions with him. Her nightmares and waking moments of terror. The process left her feeling strangely cleansed, as though by keeping the truth from him for so long she'd perpetuated her own shame over the events of that night.

He reacted differently than she anticipated. Anna expected him to stiffen with rage and go after Green at that very moment as it appeared he would do earlier in the evening. But he treated her tenderly, almost reverently, the tears in his eyes mirroring those in her own.

He still loved her. Anna knew he would, considering how easily he'd forgiven her for her feigned infidelity. Having long ago decided that if he could stand to be with her if she'd willingly been with another man, she knew he would not leave her for it happening unwillingly. But she took reassurance in his response.

"Why didn't you tell me?" Bates pleaded, his voice full of emotion. "Why did you let me believe you'd been unfaithful?"

Pensively, Anna answered after a moment, "I didn't intend to lie, not at first. I didn't want you to know at all because... because I was so ashamed. I couldn't stand for you to know. But also, I worried... I thought you'd murder him and be found out and hanged. When you made mention of adultery, I thought it would be easier for you to believe and for you to live with."

He sighed with pained understanding. "You thought I wouldn't kill him if I believed you'd been in the wrong."

"Yes." She bit her lip slightly before continuing. "I knew it would hurt you. And I'm so sorry for that, I am. But I couldn't risk your future."

Bates sighed. "My future..." he repeated as though finding new understanding in the words. Shaking his head, he observed, "I should have realized it sooner. The bruises on your face that night..."

"I didn't want you to know," Anna stated, attempting to absolve him of guilt.

She wished he would look at her and meet her gaze. She wished she could find a way to reach him, to offer him some comfort. But he stared at the floor of their home, his mind clearly reeling as he processed her motives.

"Because you were protecting me," he stated, hating the idea even as he voiced it.

"Yes."

"With more than your life," he whispered softly, mostly to himself. "With your reputation, with your mental state and well being."

Apparently overwhelmed by this new understanding, Bates began to shake. Anna reached out a hand to touch him and he recoiled as though she'd burned him. Dejected, she let her hand drop to her side.

"Would you have really left me?" he asked.

Anna answered slowly. "Yes."

"And what of divorce?"

Imagining an existence lived separate and apart from him was impossible. Her life truly would be over. But she could do it if she had to, Anna believed. If it spared his suffering and ultimately his life, she'd give up every bit of peace and happiness afforded to her in the world. For all his talk of being unworthy of her, she was the one who did not deserve him, not in the end.

"If that's what you had wanted," she affirmed quietly.

* * *

She'd have left him. She'd have let him divorce her.

Bates let out a tightly held breath in a short gasp, his expression betraying utter anguish. "You were innocent in all of this," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. "And yet you painted yourself as an adulterer... you would have let me divorce you as an adulterer... to keep me from doing something rash that might lead me to imprisonment."

Anna did not dispute him, but she clarified softly, "To execution. They'd not have spared you a second time."

Bates grimaced as though he'd been struck and let out another pained sigh.

"Did you really believe I would act so recklessly?" Thinking back to how he'd reacted at the sight of Green speaking to her in the hall, he answered himself, "Of course you did, to go through all this..."

She knew him better than he knew himself sometimes.

"I knew you'd feel obligated to avenge me," Anna explained. "I could live with you despising me - even divorcing me - for being unfaithful to you. But I couldn't be responsible for you returning to prison. Or worse..."

"But after what you endured, to shoulder that burden..."

Her brow furrowing, Anna countered forcefully, "But you didn't make it a burden. You were always so forgiving and kind. You could have spent these past months punishing me, making me work to regain your trust and your love. I wouldn't have blamed you if you had. I deserve nothing less. But you didn't."

Finally, he looked at her, forcing his eyes to lock with hers. He could see the shadows there, a deep well of pain and despair at having to keep her secret, the guilt which could never properly be unburdened.

"You didn't deserve to be treated so," Bates seethed, his voice filled with great emotion. "I could feel that in my heart, that you were innocent of any wrongs."

"You are equally innocent," she told him, "and I don't want you blaming yourself."

She reached out and took his hands in hers, and he could not force himself to pull away. Her touch was as necessary as breathing.

"I should have protected you-"

"You had no way to know," Anna countered.

"And I should have realized you were lying about what happened."

Her chest rose and fell as she breathed in several times before responding to him. "You are not at fault for my deception," she stated. "And you are not at fault for what that man did. If you must cast blame, then put it on me. You tried to warn me he was no good, and I didn't listen to you. I even took his side over yours..."

Her voice cut out and Bates remembered the incident with the card game. It seemed so long ago now, a lifetime. He shook his head slowly as he said, "You are not to blame, Anna."

She swallowed back a fresh wave of tears before nodding, momentarily accepting his statement.

"Neither are you," she told him. "And I won't see you tear yourself to pieces over it either."

Bates looked away, the tears in his eyes finding their way out onto his cheeks. Suppressing the deep need to dissolve into sobs at the thought of Anna hurt so, he said to her, "I wish you'd told me the truth in the beginning."

"I wanted to," Anna said quietly, sadly. "I was just so afraid for you."

"You thought I couldn't control my murderous impulses if I knew the truth," he noted aloud, his voice sarcastic and hurt.

She looked away, embarrassed at his classification of her actions. "It wasn't like that."

"Then what was it like?" he asked. "What about me is so violent and impulsive that I could not control my rage upon finding out?"

When she did not respond for several moments, Bates sighed heavily. But before he could speak, she answered, "Could you really go about things as though nothing had happened? Could you see him at Downton without saying a word? Tomorrow morning, will you be able to sit across from him at breakfast?"

He certainly could not. It took all his restraint to stop from marching back up to the house and murdering Green in his bed. But Anna had endured it. She'd sat down to breakfast next to the valet the morning after the concert, the morning after he'd...

Anna had done endured that for him, to protect him. But could he obey her wishes to do the same?

With a sigh, he pointed out feebly, "We can call the police."

"So he can argue that I never refused him, that I wanted it?" Anna demanded, growing more upset. "He will publically paint me as an adulterer and any witness they call at trial will say how friendly I was to him. They won't believe me, and in the end they'll let him go. And everyone will know."

Having very little luck with the justice system, Bates found himself unable to argue with her logic. Going to the police would mean a very public and potentially reputation-damaging trial. Even if Green were found guilty, the shadows cast on both the Crawleys and Lord Gillingham's family would be considerable. And that said nothing of the destruction such a case would do to Anna's reputation. His murder conviction had already made the two of them infamous, and even more negative attention might necessitate them being released from Lord Grantham's service.

"What did he say to you earlier, on the stairs?" Bates asked.

Anna shook her head, unwilling to divulge the information. He sighed.

"I won't let him get away with this, Anna What he did to you... that can't go unpunished."

"You can't go after him," she warned, fear beginning to choke her. "They'll arrest you and put you away again."

"Only if I'm caught," Bates stated, his mind already working through the problem of how to get at Green undetected.

Frowning, Anna lamented, "But you will be caught. I don't care what you learned in prison. You can't hope to get away with murder and escape the notice of the police."

"It wouldn't be murder," he said absently. "It would be justice."

He looked at his wife to see her shaking, her arms wrapped around her body as though to ward off some terrible chill. Her lower lip quivered out of control. "This is why I didn't want to tell you," she said.

"Anna..."

"No, listen to me," she said harshly, the panic turning her voice hoarse as she addressed him. "I won't watch them take you to prison again. I won't. I was willing to give you up to keep that from happening, and I still am. You have to let this go. You have to, John, or our marriage is over."

He cocked his head slightly to one side, confused over her statement.

Clarifying, she declared without hesitation, "If you kill Green, if you harm him at all, I will leave you."

Her ultimatum momentarily silenced him. But a moment later, his anger rose up and he demanded, "You care for this man's life so much you would threaten to end our marriage?"

Anna's eyes widened slightly at the question, and her eyes filled with renewed tears. "I care for _you _that much," was her retort, swiftly followed by the impassioned statement, "and yes, I would end our marriage to keep the man I love more than life itself from being hanged for a crime committed in my name."

After a long pause, Bates began, "But what he did to you..."

"It doesn't matter," Anna responded instantly. "All that matters is you... you and me, our life together."

Somehow, her trembling had only increased such that she was now shaking like a leaf in a windstorm as she stood unsteadily before him. But beyond her petite frame and small statute, Bates suddenly took notice of the squareness of her shoulders and the straightness of her back. Despite her distress at the situation - and he could not blame her for being upset - she had no qualms about standing up to him.

"Anna," he said with a sigh, reaching out hand to cup her cheeks in his hands. Bates expected her to flinch, but she did not move away as his long, nimble fingers ran along the sides of her face, tracing the stray wisps of hair just in front of her ears. "I won't do anything to jeopardize our future together," he assured her.

Nodding, Anna briefly closed her eyes, and as she did so, the accumulated tears were forced out to stream down her face. Touching her delicately, he wiped the moisture away with his thumbs before leaning forward to press his lips against hers. The kiss was slow and chaste, more a declaration of love than a desperate cry for passion. Anna leaned into him, her hands finding their way along his forearms to his elbows and then migrating down his body to rest on his hips.

But he did not end with the press of their lips. Bates moved on to kiss her forehead, and then her cheeks, followed closely by delicate, butterfly touches of his lips to her eyelids. She waited, patiently anticipated where he might kiss her next.

He surprised Anna by kissing the edge of her mouth, and the unexpected pressure caused her to smile despite herself. From there he moved to her opposite temple, and after that back to her lips. Peeking open her eyes, she saw him watching her intently, his eyes focused on hers.

"You know I love you," he said in a deep and rough voice that sent chills down her spine.

"I know," Anna answered. "I love you, too. So much."

"I promise to do as you ask, but I won't let him hurt you again," Bates told her. "If he so much as comes near you..."

She nodded slightly.

"I know." Her voice echoed slightly in the small space of their home.

"You cannot ask me to stand by and do nothing."

Anna shivered at the steel in his voice, but she did not pull away from him. "He'll be gone soon," she assured him. "And we can go on with our lives."

He could tell she did not believe her own hopeful words. As she slept in the shelter of his arms that night, no longer separated from him by secrets and lies, Bates turned over the situation in his mind. He would resist the urge to deal with Green so long as the man stayed away from Anna. For her, he could keep his temper in check. But nothing would stop him if the valet did not toe the line. And based on his experience with Green, he would not have to wait long before the man gave him a reason to end him once and for all.

* * *

TBC


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N: Lots of love for the awesome reviewers and everyone who has been reading this story. **

* * *

Bates accompanied Anna to the house the next day. After her run-in with Green the previous evening, he refused to leave her alone even for a moment while that man was at Downton. Their work at the house would be tricky but with Lord Grantham still out of the country, Bates' duties were more flexible.

Once Anna was safely upstairs and attending to Lady Mary, he returned to the servants' hall. Not unexpectedly, Mrs. Hughes was waiting for him.

"When is Lord Gillingham leaving?"

The woman shrugged her shoulders. "Today, I imagine, but he's so unpredictable."

"I don't want her alone while he's here," he informed the housekeeper, the quiet bark of his tone coming out like an order. But she nodded in agreement.

"We can trade off so it doesn't look as suspicious. I'll go up when she's done with Lady Mary." She paused. "So, I take it you spoke to her... about what happened?"

Bates looked away, unable to keep the emotions which were bubbling just under the surface from peeking out in his expression. "Yes, I did. She told me the truth."

"I'm so glad-"

Shaking his head, he told her sharply, "Don't be. If only you or she had told me what happened before, she could have been spared so much of this."

Gently, cognizant of his fragile state, Mrs. Hughes reminded him, "It wasn't my secret to tell, Mister Bates."

"And it wasn't her shame to bear."

He walked away from her, the conversation clearly over.

* * *

While Anna was upstairs, Bates took the opportunity to polish some boots which he hadn't gotten to the prior day. His mind was thoroughly occupied with thoughts of his wife and all they had discussed the night before. She'd forced him to promise not to hurt Green, and he intended to keep that vow, no matter how much he wanted to punish the man. Unfortunately, the boots were forced to accept much of his brooding fury.

The click of the door shutting interrupted Bates' thoughts. As if his own ruminations had conjured the valet, Green stood there before him looking as pompous and smug as ever. Bates slowly stood up to face the other man.

"I'm to leave shortly with Lord Gillingham, Mister Bates. It's a shame we didn't finish our conversation yesterday," he said, a note of humor in his voice.

Rather than anger, Bates felt a crisp, clear calm overtake his mind and wipe away all emotions. He'd seen the look on Green's face sported by other men in the past. A younger, seemingly more physically fit man, the other valet was overconfident and brash. What's more, he was both sneaky and vindictive. A cold certainty settled in Bates' gut.

"I'd advise you to leave now and never return here," he told Green heavily. But the man paid him little attention.

Conversationally, as though he were speaking to someone who did not have every reason in the world to want him dead, Green said, "A pity I didn't see more of Mrs. Bates while I was here. But maybe I'll see her in London some time soon. I'm sure Lady Mary travels there often enough."

The threat was vague, but Bates recognized it for what it was. He could not protect Anna everywhere, especially not if she were in London and he had to remain at Downton.

"If you value your life, you'll stay far away from her," Bates warned him. But his threat was completely idle. There would be no way out of this for the valet, not while he implied further violence against Anna. Bates' mind was processing quickly, making calculations and notes. They were only a few feet apart.

Green snorted in derision. "She's a pretty girl. Not sure if I could stay away even if I wanted to."

Bates stared at him, the perfect mask of his face betraying no feelings at all. He was looking at a dead man who did not yet realize his hours were numbered. His hand tightened on the handle of his cane which had been hooked onto the side of the table.

"And do you think that's a threat?" Green asked, chuckling openly. "You're just an old cripple. Everyone knows she was a fool for marrying you. No wonder she was willing to spread her legs so easily-"

Bates snapped.

While he'd intended to let the other man make the first move, he refused to listen to the vile lies his mouth was spreading. He pushed Green, _hard_, enough for the other man to lose his balance and crash into the far wall. The action enraged the smug valet. His expression twisted into a snarling rage as he took a swing at Bates. But Bates' experience with fighting served the older man well. He batted the man's fist to the side with a swift swing of his cane. The injury likely smarted but was not enough to cause too much harm. Glaring at him, Green attempted to hit him again. Again, Bates blocked the strike.

He could have broken the man's arm, cracked the wood of the cane until it shattered against bone. But he restrained himself.

Growing increasingly angry, the younger valet growled and launched himself at Bates, moving to grab his lapels and throw him against the far cabinet. But Bates sidestepped him and maneuvered Green easily. As he moved to the side of Green, Bates made several fast, precise blows to the valet's lower back, using both the curved wood of the cane and his fist.

With the wind momentarily knocked from him, Green took a few steps back. Bates watched him, calm and cool.

Green sneered, "Not my fault your wife's a whore."

As much as the words incensed him, Bates did not rise to the bait.

He took a step forward, relaxing just as the valet rushed at him and caught him across the jaw with a vicious strike which left him genuinely reeling. Before he could raise a defense, Green hit him again, this time fully in the face. Bates grimaced as he took the blow, already knowing the shot would result in an obvious black eye.

They continued fighting, with Bates getting in very specific shots to the other man's torso and Green dealing him damage to his face, body, and anywhere else he could reach. While the older man fought with obvious experience and precision, Green moved like a bar room brawler, his eyes flashing with excitement at the altercation. As they smashed into each other, all manner of items fell from hooks and countertops and benches, creating a tremendous racket to accompany their grunts and growls of anger.

Just as they heard the door open and the deep voice of Mr. Carson begin, "What is the meaning of this?!" the fight changed.

Before he could even register that they were no longer alone, Green kicked at Bates, his food reaching out to strike the other man's bad knee - hard. The blow crumpled Bates to the ground and he went down with a genuine groan of pain. Even Green appeared surprised at the effectiveness of the attack.

"Mister Gillingham!"

Mrs. Hughes' incensed voice rang through the room even more strongly than Carson's. Ignoring the very real agony in his leg, Bates looked up at the valet as he heard her and saw the expression of nervousness on Green's face.

Taking stock of the situation, the housekeeper quickly stated, "Mister Carson, we should call the police. This man has just attacked and beaten Mister Bates."

Green began to protest, "But he attacked me-"

"Mister Bates attacked you? " Mrs. Hughes intoned with skepticism. "A well trusted member of this household and a disabled veteran who served with his Lordship?"

Others had gathered behind them, including Jimmy and Daisy, each servant attempting to get a peek of the inside of the room and the two participants to the fight. Even from their limited vantage point, the apparently unmarked Green was standing over a bloodied and beaten Bates.

Carson quickly agreed, "Yes, I think the police should sort this out. I'll consult with her Ladyship first, but from where I'm standing, it doesn't look good for you, Mister Green."

The next few minutes were a blur of activity as Mrs. Hughes shooed off the gathered servants before rounding the boot room table to check on Bates. True to his word, Mr. Carson went upstairs to find Lady Grantham. Perhaps sensing that things would not be going in his favor, Green quietly disappeared.

When they were alone in the room, Mrs. Hughes knelt by Bates side and gave him a quiet, disapproving look. "Did you really attack him?"

"He threatened Anna."

Those were all the words he needed to say on the matter. The housekeeper frowned at him. "She'll be downstairs any moment. I sent Miss Baxter up to fetch her."

"It will be all right, Mrs. Hughes," he assured the woman. Testing out his knee, he said with confidence, "I may look a mess at the moment, but there will be no lasting damage."

She took in his comment with troubled eyes but questioned him no further. "Can you stand?" she asked. "I saw him kick you. And in your injured leg, no less. If I had the ability to hate that man more than I already do..."

"I should be fine," Bates assured her, although he accepted her help in standing. The blow to his knee had certainly hurt - he could already feel it throbbing and swelling - but it was not unexpected. Green truly was a vile piece of scum, the sort of man who only targeted those weaker than himself.

For a moment, he thought about how Anna had felt that night. She'd told him what happened up to a point, but could not put forth the words to describe exactly how Green had hurt her. But he'd certainly hit her, multiple times, and he'd taken her to the boot room, this room, before violating her body.

Mrs. Hughes took a step forward, intent on helping him towards the servants' hall, but he paused.

"This is where it happened," he said to her, looking at the table in the center of the room. It was the same place where Anna had confessed to him her supposed infidelity. How she had managed to convince him while standing in the place where it had happened, he did not understand. How could he have been such a blind fool?

"Mister Bates..." the housekeeper began, but whatever she would have said quickly died as Anna's figure appeared in the doorway, Miss Baxter a few steps behind her.

Both women were out of breath from coming so quickly, but he could see Anna's eyes were wild with panic. She paused only briefly in the doorway before going to him, automatically putting an arm out to help steady him as her other hand touched his face. He could feel the bruises beginning to develop under his skin as her eyes raked across them.

Anna's anger was something to behold. Her mouth set into a solid line as she examined her husband's injuries, her bottom lip trembling with rage rather than fear. And then she noticed how he stood, not putting weight on his hurt leg, and her frown deepened.

"I'll kill him myself," she declared.

"Anna-" Mrs. Hughes admonished lightly, even as Bates attempted to reassure her.

"There's no need."

"But I can't believe he did this to you," she went on. Looking around for Green, as though he might suddenly appear beside them, she asked, "Where is he? Has he gone?"

"He's gone, Anna," he reassured her. Then, more meaningfully, he added, "I doubt he'll bother us again."

The housekeeper raised an eyebrow at this comment even as she volunteered, "Mister Carson has gone to her Ladyship and is likely calling the police as we speak. Such an attack on a member of this household should not go unreported."

She shot Anna a look which spoke volumes, and the lady's maid nodded.

The two women assisted Bates into the servants' hall and helped him to take a seat by the wood stove. Mrs. Hughes fetched a damp cloth to clean the blood from his face as Anna went for a cold compress. The other servants gathered around to stare at the unusual sight. Their questions and comments came out in a jumble and Bates ignored them, focusing on maintaining an appearance of shame at having been beaten by the younger man.

"What happened?"

"Did Mister Green do this?"

"I can't believe it. He seemed so nice."

Only Miss Baxter ventured an opposite opinion. "I don't know. He always gave me a bad feeling."

When it became clear Bates would not answer their questions, they turned to Anna when she came back in the room with ice wrapped in a towel. "We're going to let Mister Carson and her Ladyship sort it out," she told them.

"Seems odd," Jimmy stated.

Beside him, Daisy asked, "What do you mean?"

"Just funny how Mister Green was here the last time someone showed up covered in bruises," the footman said thoughtfully, his eyes flicking to Anna. She ignored him but Bates looked at Jimmy carefully before the other man turned away. His observation was not lost on Miss Baxter.

In short order, Mr. Carson appeared. Taking one look at Bates, he shooed out the rest of the servants before addressing the valet, Anna, and Mrs. Hughes. "Her Ladyship agreed with me about calling the police. She insisted on doing so herself, actually, after speaking with Lord Gillingham."

"Well, they'll have to go look for Mister Gillingham. He ran off and no one has seen him since," Mrs. Hughes put in.

The butler gently corrected her, "I think we can safely refer to him as _Mister Green_ from now on as I do not believe he will be remaining in Lord Gillingham's employ for much longer."

"Nor should he," she stated.

Turning to the injured valet, he said, "Should I call the doctor for you, Mister Bates? That looked like quite a blow to your knee..."

"I'm fine, Mister Carson," he responded.

"Well, then if you would be so kind as to tell me exactly what went on just now...?"

The following hour was a dizzying whirl of Bates answering questions put to him by Carson, Lady Grantham, Lady Mary, and even Anna. When asked about the impetus for Green's attack, he said only that the other valet had begun making remarks about Anna.

"What did he say?" Anna asked, looking pale and fretful.

"Nothing I wish to repeat. Only things no man should say about another's wife."

Several sets of eyebrows shot up in surprise, but no one questioned him further on what Green said.

"Surely, you didn't attack him as he claimed?" Lady Grantham asked.

"I pushed him," he admitted truthfully. "But he threw the first punch. I did fight back, I'll admit."

Lady Mary interjected, "Of course you fought back. Who wouldn't have fought back? Although he seems to have gotten the better of you..."

Her voice held a hint of suspicion, as though she would have anticipated Lord Grantham's former batman faring better in such an altercation. By the accounts of Mr. Carson and Mrs. Hughes, Green had looked as though he'd barely been touched.

"My own fault, milady," he responded. "A man should never start a fight unless he knows he can win."

"Sounds like Mister Green started this fight," Lady Mary intoned.

"And he even went so far as to kick Mister Bates in his injured knee," Mrs. Hughes groused irritably.

Anna muttered, "Coward," and no one contradicted her.

"I'm sure there was no permanent damage. I'll be fine in a few days," Bates told them.

"Still, I'd feel better if you had Doctor Clarkson take a look at you," Lady Grantham stated. "I'm sure Carson would be kind enough to call. And then you should take today and tomorrow off to recover..."

"I doubt that will be necessary, milady," he protested, moving to stand up to demonstrate how much better his leg felt. But Anna placed a firm hand on his shoulder, keeping him in place.

"I insist," her Ladyship said. Her voice would brook no refusals. "And really, the nerve of that man attacking someone in this house. It is unfortunate that we have to resort to such measures as bringing in the authorities, but that is simply not acceptable. Carson, please let me know when the police have found him."

The butler dipped his head as he acknowledged, "Of course, your Ladyship."

Lady Mary waited in the hall while her mother returned upstairs. She glanced between Bates and Anna before addressing the former. "Lord Gillingham wanted you to know that he considers Green fired. He feels terrible about the whole business."

Bates watched as the woman cast a quick look at Anna, an expression of guilt and grief washing over her features momentarily before she squelched the emotion.

"If there's anything you need - either of you..."

"Thank you, milady," he told her, knowing even as he spoke that Lady Mary somehow knew about what had happened to his wife. She knew what _really _happened to Anna, not the story he'd been told and believed up until the prior day.

Even more pieces began to fit into the puzzle Bates' mind had been struggling with for months. Lady Mary had arranged for Thomas to accompany Lord Grantham to America. She must have done so knowing Anna needed him close by...

How had he not seen this all before? How could he be so blind?

When they were alone for a moment - finally alone with none of the other servants or even Mrs. Hughes around to ask more questions - Bates turned his attention to Anna, who had taken a seat near him. His leg was propped up on a footstool, elevated but not fully stretched out to accommodate his old injury, with a cold compress on it to help with the swelling. He held another cold pack to his eye. While he had not yet seen himself in a mirror, based on everyone else's reactions, he imagined that the bruises were impressive.

She seemed outwardly calm, but Anna's inner feelings were clear as day to anyone who knew her well. Fear reigned supreme with her emotions, causing her to tremble slightly.

"Anna..." he began, unsure what to say.

"You remember what I told you last night?"

Her voice was deliberately hard and cold. Her shaking increased as she spoke.

Sighing, he said, "I remember, yes."

"You promised me."

"But he threatened you-" Bates began.

Anna simply shook her head, as though she could not quite believe that not more than twelve hours after their conversation at the cottage, she was sitting next to him injured and possibly broken. Bates reached out a hand to touch her, but she gasped harshly at the contact and pulled away from him. For a moment she froze, her eyes glazing.

_A flashback_, Bates realized. He'd seen her with that look before, could well identify the way her entire body seized up as tears welled in her eyes.

He waited with her through it, speaking gentle words and nonsense phrases in low, soothing tones until she shuddered and closed her eyes. Not touching her was incredibly hard, but he knew what she was going through.

Shell shock.

Mental traumas were not only experienced at war, he knew. And what Anna had gone through must have been terrifying. Bates could not imagine, did not want to imagine, the horror she'd experienced that night, not to mention the continuing pain of having to see Green at the house, to have to be in the presence of her attacker.

_I'd do anything to take this pain from her._

He'd do anything. He recognized the phrasing from Mrs. Hughes' conversation with him the day before, describing Anna's desperation to keep him from returning to prison. It was a fresh understanding of his wife's love for him. But as surely as she would endure this hell in silence, allowing him to believe her unfaithful, Bates knew he could not have endured the possibility of Green hurting her again.

And he would have hurt her again. Bates could see that in the valet's eyes - cold, predatory eyes which searched out for weakness. Bates knew from his years in prison that rape was more about power than lust, and Green thought he had power over Anna. He would seek her out again, Bates was sure of it.

"Anna, I know you said you would leave me if I broke my word," he said to her, speaking softly so no one happening by would hear. "And I know you said that out of love for me. That you would go to such lengths to keep me safe..."

His voice cracked and he was forced to look away from her so he could bring his emotions into check. Why did this have to happen to her? How could he have allowed such a thing to occur?

Steadying himself, he pressed on, "But please know this - I love you just as much. Your safety, your well being, is just as important to me. I could never let him hurt you again. I could never let that possibility even flicker into existence. And if that means we cannot be together, if you cannot trust me, then I will accept it. But I would gladly walk to the gallows before letting that man ever lay another hand on you."

Blinking rapidly, Anna stared at him as he spoke. She did not look away, not even when her tears made twin streams down her face, rivers of anguish that might never be washed clean. Argument was already on her lips, ready to be shot back at him. He could see the sentiments in her eyes: How could he believe he loved her more than she loved him? How could she ever live if he were taken from her, because of her?

"Darling, please don't worry," he told her.

"I've done nothing but worry since this began," Anna responded harshly.

"That was before I knew, before I could share this burden with you," Bates told her. "Let me share it, Anna. Let me protect you and fulfill my duties as your husband."

She shook her head, slightly, hesitantly, as though she had to convince herself anew to resist his gently entreaty. "I could never forgive myself," she told him, "if anything happened to you. He did this to you, because of me. What if next time it is worse?"

"Nothing will happen to me," he tried to assure her.

"You don't know that. And if being with me means you might return to prison..."

Her threat to leave him still fresh in his mind, Bates expressed, "We don't know anything for certain. Something could happen to either of us on any day. All we have is the unknown time left to us. And I wish to spend what remains of my life with you... if you'll still have me."

She opened her mouth to speak, but he held up a hand to silence her. "Wait," he instructed her. "Wait until tomorrow to make your decision."

"But I already know-"

"Please," he pleaded. "I want you to consider everything carefully, without being rushed. And there are yet matters which might come to light and inform your choice."

She stared at him with curiosity, but did not question. With a thoughtful, pensive nod she accepted his terms.

* * *

TBC


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N: Gah, I know I always say this, but I have to keep saying it because it is true. Thank you so much for the beautiful reviews and thoughts on the story. I've written in other fandoms and I have to say - folks from this fandom are some of the kindest, most thoughtful, and engaging reviewers. And I appreciate each of you :)**

* * *

The police took his statement when they arrived in the afternoon, the two men taking careful note of his bruised face and swollen leg as they spoke with him in the privacy of Mrs. Hughes' sitting room. He told the truth, or most of it, leaving out exactly what Green said about Anna and the circumstances of Green's attack on her. He did volunteer information about Green's obvious pursuit of her when he'd last been at Downton months earlier as well as his confrontation of the other valet the evening before. These were circumstances the other servants had witnessed anyway, and it was better to be open about them.

"I know I shouldn't have touched him," he said, flavoring his admission with remorse, "but when a man won't leave your wife alone..."

He noticed one of the officers nod his head slightly, almost unconsciously, as he spoke.

"Naturally," the other officer agreed. "Although you seem to have come out the wrong side for your troubles."

Bates inclined his head, silently signaling that such injuries were a small price for defending his wife's honor.

"Well, we've spoken with the butler and the housekeeper, and they agree that this Mister Green was the faulty party. The fact that he ran away and isn't here to tell us his side speaks to his guilt as well. We'll see if we can round him up."

Keeping his tone gentle and betraying a measure of shame at his beating, Bates suggested, "I'd hate for this incident to become a public embarrassment for Lord and Lady Grantham. I'm entirely willing to drop the charges so long as he never comes back."

One of the officers, an older man with wizened eyes, nodded thoughtfully. "I understand, Mister Bates."

They spoke to a few more people before leaving, including Anna. She gave the same edited account of Green's behavior as her husband, and when they asked her questions about the valet cornering her the night before, the fear she showed was genuine. A lone tear escaped one eye and the older officer handed her both a kindly smile and his handkerchief.

"I shouldn't worry, Mrs. Bates," he told her. "We'll find the man soon enough and make sure he doesn't come back here."

They both tipped their hats to her before leaving.

With a worried glance at her husband, Anna returned to her duties in the house.

* * *

Doctor Clarkson was delayed in traveling to Downton to check on Bates, and he did not arrive until later in the evening. Bates spent his time reading and resting, feeling slightly guilty that he could not help with work. Mrs. Hughes suggested that he go down to the cottage to rest, but he refused. He told her that could not leave Anna, not with Green still out and about somewhere. And as he pointed out, he could rest his leg just as comfortably in the servants' hall at Downton as he could at home.

Anna had just gone up to help Lady Mary change for dinner when Dr. Clarkson finally arrived.

"Mister Bates," the doctor acknowledged him as he entered Mrs. Hughes' sitting room. The housekeeper had insisted on him resting there until the doctor arrived. "And how did this happen?"

Allowing his embarrassment at the circumstance to show through, he said roughly, "Just a scuffle. It probably looks worse than it is."

Clarkson frowned but did not press him. He began an examination, but as Bates had suspected, the damage to his face was not so great as to require a visit to the hospital. A possible fracture of his cheek bone, but nothing that wouldn't heal with time. His knee was not seriously injured either, although the doctor advised that Bates stay off of it as much as possible for a few days.

As he packed up his medical kit and opened the door to the corridor, Clarkson said conversationally, "I apologize for taking so long to get up here. A more urgent case required my attention at the hospital."

"Oh?" the valet asked.

"Yes, a man was hit by a car in the village, although it is very odd." He shook his head. "The driver insists that he did not strike him, but that the man stumbled into the road and he swerved to avoid him."

Bates asked, "What happened to the man?"

"He died a short while ago from internal injuries. As I said, it is a strange case. He must have been hit by the car to cause such injuries, but the driver was so adamant. Alas, these things will happen more and more with so many motorized vehicles on the roads. We are still trying to figure out the man's identity. I was actually going to speak with Mister Carson before leaving to see if he might be able to identify him."

Mrs. Hughes appeared in the open doorway behind the doctor.

"Did I hear something about someone dying?" she asked, looking slightly alarmed.

Clarkson quickly relayed to her the same story he'd told Bates, and as he did so, the housekeeper's eyes strayed to the valet, growing wider with apprehension with each bit of information.

"Well, Mister Green is still missing," she ventured before describing the man's physical characteristics.

The doctor asked, "Who is this Mister Green? He sounds consistent with the man who died."

"He was valet to a guest in the house, Lord Gillingham, up until this morning," Mrs. Hughes explained, gesturing toward Bates' bruised face.

"He did this?" the doctor asked in surprise. "What happened?"

Bates' eyes traveling to the floor, looking for all the world like a bruised boy refusing to tell his father about the bully at school. He said nothing. Clarkson's eyes narrowed at him, but he turned his attention to Mrs. Hughes.

She explained, "Mister Green attacked Mister Bates this morning. There was a scuffle in the boot room, and you can see the results."

She gestured to Bates, who studiously offered no other details.

The doctor nodded his head slowly. His usual kindly manner had gradually fallen away, replaced by a look of suspicion. If Mrs. Hughes noticed it, she gave no indication.

"If the man at the hospital is this Mister Green, it would explain how got those injuries if he wasn't hit by the vehicle. I could hardly tell until I examined him, but there was quite a bit of damage to his organs to cause such internal bleeding."

Clarkson stared at Bates openly, as though examining the valet in a new light. "You were in the army, Mister Bates, as I recall? With Lord Grantham in the Boers."

"I was," he answered frankly.

"I imagine your training was extensive."

Bates paused before responding. "It was a long time ago, doctor."

Intervening, Mrs. Hughes asked, "But can you be sure he wasn't hit by the car? Mister Green looked almost untouched when he left here."

"If he was hit in the fight, he likely did not even realize anything was wrong at first." Clarkson continued looking at Bates for a moment before breaking eye contact. With a shake of his head, an expression of embarrassment, and a return to his usual tone, he said, "But you're right, Mrs. Hughes. I can't be sure. I shouldn't sound as though I'm accusing anyone of anything untoward."

She nodded decisively before turning to the valet. "Well, Anna should be down any moment. Miss Baxter has already offered to undress Lady Mary for bed so Anna can take you home. Would you like us to call the car for you so you don't have to walk all the way down to the cottage, Mister Bates?"

Standing up, he gently put weight on his bad leg. It held, although the blow from Green still smarted and caused him to limp even worse. "I don't think that will be necessary. I'm sure Anna can help me." Turning to the doctor, he stated, "Thank you for your assistance."

He held out his hand.

"Of course," Clarkson stated, nodding as he shook the valet's outstretched hand. He watch as the valet left the room, his expression unsettled.

Mrs. Hughes offered him a smile which did not quite hide her concern. "Would you like some tea, doctor?" she asked him.

"No, I really should be getting back. Although, there is one thing I'd like to know..." He stopped, looking at her curiously. "What was the fight between them about, if I may ask?"

She considered very carefully before sighing and moving to shut the door to her sitting room, ensuring that they were alone. "You might as well have a seat."

* * *

Bates leaned on his wife as they walked slowly down to the cottage, Anna having been released early from Lady Mary's service for the evening. They had spoken little throughout the day and even now most of her conversation involved her employer.

"She feels terrible about what happened today. Lord Gillingham wanted to apologize to you himself, but I told her that wasn't necessary."

"It isn't." Curious, he asked, "Does Lady Mary know... about what happened?"

Not answering for a few steps, Anna said finally, "She knows. Mrs. Hughes told her when his Lordship was going to America. She intervened to keep you here."

"I'm glad."

She frowned.

"I'm not. You lost such an opportunity." Sadly, she added, "You've never been to America, and you were kept from going because of me."

Bates looked at her. "I didn't want to go, not while things were still so fragile between us."

Her voice burdened with guilt, she confessed, "I didn't want you to go. It was selfish of me, but I'm not sure I'd have gotten through all this without you by my side."

They walked in silence for a time. So much still stood unspoken between them. Anna wanted to clear the air, to make him dispel the confusion in her mind about that day's events. But she could tell that her husband likewise seemed preoccupied, and she had no wish to upset him while he was still in pain from what Green had done to him.

She wondered what transpired between the two valets which resulted in them coming to blows. In all likelihood, Green had said something to instigate the fight, or so she hoped. Even a comment which might seem innocuous to someone else would be enough to enrage Bates, finally knowing what Green had done to her.

She recalled how the valet had cornered her on the stairs the night before, his smug expression bringing her to a halt as her heart threatened to beat right out of her chest. No amount of logic or rationality could quiet her fears, even though she heard others in the servants' hall and the kitchen. He could not hurt her again, not in front of so many people.

And yet, he was there. He was right there, only a few feet from her. She wanted to call out for her husband, to seek his protection, but at the same time, she feared what he would do to Green.

"You aren't as friendly as the last time I was here, Mrs. Bates," Green said to her, his leering eyes matching his tone.

She hated the way he said her name, as though it were a mockery of her status as a married woman. She refused to respond to him, but he blocked her path down the stairs. The symmetry of the situation threatened to throw her into another flashback of that night. Keeping her terror in check, she gripped the railing and refused to respond to him.

"Don't pretend you weren't asking for it-" he began to say, making her shiver and almost whimper in utter fight. And then in the flash of an eye, like an answer to her prayers, her husband was there.

She did not realize until later that he'd already worked out the truth of what Green did to her. At the time, she worried he was reacting out of jealousy.

Anna pushed away thoughts of the visiting valet, unable to keep her skin from crawling and her stomach from churning when she brought up his face in her mind. Instead she focused on the man who was leaning on her as she helped him down to their home. The man whose life she would protect at all costs, who felt the same about her. The man she'd threatened to leave if he did exactly what he'd done that morning.

"How is your knee?" she asked once they finally arrived at the cottage and he was able to sit on their small couch while she found a pillow to help prop up his leg without over extending it.

"It hurts, but Doctor Clarkson did not believe there'd be any lasting damage."

She frowned at him, reaching out a hand to gently touch his face just below an impressively colorful bruise. "This is my fault..." she began to say.

He caught up her wrist in his hand and brought it to his lips for a gentle kiss to the sensitive skin just over her veins. "You are at fault for nothing," he told her strongly.

She pulled her hand back automatically when he let it go, not realizing that she missed his touch until a moment later. When had her brain stopped forcing her to be afraid of this man? Anna did not know for sure, but she realized that she could be in his presence with no concern for him but his own well being. He would never hurt her - she'd known that without question in her heart. But finally, her unconscious mind had once again accepted it as well.

"What did you mean before?" she asked, "You said there were things which might come to light. What did you mean by that?"

He swallowed and looked away from her with trepidation. "I suppose I should tell you now," he said softly.

"Tell me what?"

"There is a man... Doctor Clarkson said that there is a man who died at the hospital a little while ago from internal injuries. They are attempting to identify him now, but I suspect that by tomorrow morning they will have determined that this man is Mister Green."

She stared at him for a solid minute without moving. Her expression betrayed no reaction, only a strange blankness as her mind raced as fast as her heartbeat. Finally, after a truly uncomfortable length of time had passed, she spoke.

"You're saying he's dead."

"Yes, Anna."

"That man... he's really dead?"

He bowed his head slightly. "Unless they found another man who died of internal injuries, then I do believe Green is gone."

She blinked rapidly before taking in a quivering breath which quickly dissolved into tears. She moved forward and catching her in his arms, he pulled her into his lap. For an untold period, she just cried into his chest, her warm tears eventually soaking through the thick fabric of his suit coat. And Bates held her gently, stroking one hand across her back.

When her tears slowed down to merely the occasional sniffle, Anna reluctantly pulled away from him, obviously afraid of harming his knee. Bates would have protested, but rather he let her speak.

"The fight you had with him in the boot room..." she began, wiping away the moisture on her face. "You knew what you were doing, didn't you?"

"Anna, please."

"You knew he would die, didn't you?"

He sighed, clearly unable to lie to his wife, not in this. "I was trained in the army, Anna. I knew what I was doing."

Mrs. Hughes and Carson had said the valet looked untouched after the altercation, but Anna had found it hard to believe that her husband would have been so unable to defend himself. Even Lady Mary had been skeptical on that point. But now she realized that he had been anything but ineffective. He'd defended himself with cold, calculating strikes which left Green dead in a matter of hours.

"And you let him hit you back, to make it seem like he got the best of you. But really, the damage you did was much worse."

Bates' only response was a nod. "I doubt he realize it until he was halfway to the village. Doctor Clarkson said he stumbled in front of a car. If he'd been hit, they likely would never have been able to tell the difference."

Anna looked away, fighting back a fresh wave of tears. "How could you..." she whispered, but stopped herself. Wrapping her arms around her body, she asked, "What did he say?"

He looked at her, confused. "The doctor?"

"No, _him_. What did he say about me, that you started the fight?"

He did not wish to tell her - she could see that in his eyes. Whatever Green had said, had threatened, her husband did not want her to know.

"Tell me what he said," she pressed.

Bates sighed but spoke with only a small hesitation. "He said a lot of things. If you want to know why I did what I did, it was because he essentially said he would go after you next time you went to London with Lady Mary. He made it clear that he believed I couldn't protect you. In that at least, he was right."

Her eyebrows knit together, but before she could speak to contradict him, he went on, "Up until today I've failed you. I let this happen. In all the time we've known each other, the one time you truly needed me, I was not there for you. Anna, that is... unforgivable. But it is worse because you felt the need to lie about what happened, to protect me."

His voice growing hoarse, tears began to stream down his face unchecked. "What you have suffered as my wife is unconscionable. I could not let that man hurt you again. And I knew he would. I knew he would find you in London, terrorize you with his presence, and try to get you alone again. I understand men like him, Anna, and they are like rabid dogs. They have to be dealt with."

She offered, "Not by you."

"Of course, by me," he responded forcefully, almost harshly. "You are my wife. You are the first thought that enters my mind when I wake up every morning and the last thought every night when I fall asleep. Your love has been the greatest joy I have ever known. When I thought you were..." He faltered for a moment. "When I thought you were unfaithful, I was so worried I'd lose you to another man."

"I would never-" she began, but he cut her off with a shake of his head.

"I know. I should have known then, but I know now. What you would endure to keep me safe... it amounts to torture. Do you realize that? Nightmares and waking terrors. You would sit at table next to _that man _and hold your tongue. And if he threatened you, if he found you in London, I knew you wouldn't tell me. You'd keep silent to protect me, and I couldn't allow that."

She looked at the floor, unable to dispute his statement.

"Anna, I was careful," he appealed. "I doubt they can prove it was me."

"That's what you thought when they arrested you for Vera's murder," Anna shot back angrily. "They almost took you from me then. I had to prepare myself..." She took in several fast, shallow breaths. "Do you know what that would have done to me?"

"Probably the same as I'd have felt if he'd hurt you again."

The two situations were entirely different, Anna knew, but looking into his eyes, she realized that to him, it was the same. In her husband's world, his life was forfeit to hers, his suffering a cheaper price than hers. And he could not even fathom that she would feel the same about him.

He continued on, "If you want me to leave, Anna, I will. What I've just confessed to you can't be easy. I won't ask you to remain the wife of a murderer. And I don't blame you if you want me gone..."

"Gone?" she demanded, growing even more emotional. "The last thing I want is you gone. I want you here with me, always. That's all I've _ever _wanted."

Anna stepped forward, no longer able to be separated from him. Her ultimatum about leaving him had been clumsy and desperate, the only tool she thought might sway him. And he had not acted in disbelief of her carrying through with it. Rather, he'd killed a man to protect her, believing fully that his wife might still walk away from him.

She rejoined him on the couch, careful not to jostle his injured leg. He held her as they both cried, his own tears darkening her hair as he sobbed with her. Green might be gone, his ghost remaining to haunt them both, but at least they were together.

* * *

TBC

**A/N: It may be a little while (a week or two) before I can post more chapters of this story. But I promise to finish it! I'm also going to try and get out the next chapter of Old Wounds before I go on hiatus for anyone also following that fic.**


	10. Chapter 10

**A/N: I apologize for leaving this story so long without an update. I intend to finish it soon. In the mean time, thanks as always to everyone who leaves me a review or a PM to let me know how they like the chapter. It really means a lot to get feedback :)**

* * *

Anna walked to Downton on her own the next morning, her husband still recovering from the blow to his bad leg. Her walk was an easy one, no longer burdened by constant glances to make sure she wasn't followed, to make sure Green wasn't behind a tree or bush, waiting for her.

No, Green was dead. She never had to look out for him again.

A shiver went through her as she entered the ground floor and spotted Dr. Clarkson standing at the end of the hall, speaking with Mr. Carson. At the sight of her, the two men stopped talking and the butler gestured her over. Her heels made clacking noises on the floor as traveled the long corridor, the regular intervals of her steps almost too fast even to her own ears.

"Mrs. Bates," the doctor greeted her with a friendly smile. "How are you this morning?"

She'd hidden her red, puffy eyes with powder as best she could, but the man still eyed her, his gaze sweeping over her face and taking in her entire form.

"I'm well, doctor."

"And Mister Bates?"

"He's still recovering. His knee was hit fairly hard."

By the bastard, Green. She hoped he was rotting in hell.

Clarkson nodded, acknowledging her statement. "I had hoped you could pass along a message to him for me."

"Of course."

The doctor looked at Carson. The butler raised his eyebrows before intoning solemnly, "It seems Mister Green is no longer with us. After he left the house yesterday, he was struck by a car in the village."

"I had mentioned this to your husband yesterday, Mrs. Bates, but we did not know then who the man was. Late last night, Lord Gillingham came to the hospital to identify the body."

Dr. Clarkson studied her as he spoke, but Anna had a great deal of experience as an actress after hiding the attack from everyone around her and convincing her husband that she was an adulteress. So she had no trouble betraying a good bit of surprise. "How terrible," she managed to say, with just the right inflection necessary for a man who had beaten her husband.

"We thought you'd like to know," the butler said, oblivious to the undercurrents passing between the lady's maid and the doctor.

"Yes, thank you, Mister Carson."

With a nod, the butler left them alone to attend to his duties for the morning. Breakfast would be ready soon.

"I do have one question for you, Mrs. Bates," Clarkson said, gesturing for Anna to fall into step with him as he led her around a corner and into a less used hallway.

She paused, waiting for his inquiry, attempting to keep her growing alarm from showing in her expression.

"While going through Mister Green's clothes before passing them off to Lord Gillingham, we found something odd."

From his pocket he removed a small item and held it up - a hair pin.

Anna stared at it and was instantly transported back to that night so many months ago. Green had yanked at her hair, so very hard, and a number of pins had come out and were lost. She'd ended up replacing them all anyway because she could not bear the thought of wearing one he might have touched. And while the pin in the doctor's hand was common and might have belonged to anyone, Anna knew immediately that it was hers. Green must have taken it the night he attacked her.

Pushing away her panic, she said in an unsteady voice, "That's a lady's hair pin."

"I know," he answered with a patient smile. "I just found it strange to be in a man's pocket."

"Perhaps he found it and picked it up."

"Perhaps. Do you have any idea who it might belong to?"

This time, Anna gave him a patient look along with a snort of amusement. "It could belong to anyone, Doctor Clarkson. But if you want me to take it, I'll see about putting it to some use."

The pin almost scalded her as she accepted it, and Anna tucked it into a pocket as quickly as she could. She had no wish for the pin and intended to throw it away as soon as she was no longer under the doctor's watchful gaze.

Clarkson kept his eyes on Anna for several uncomfortable moments. She looked back at him as the seconds stretched out. He pursed his lips to say something, and then shook his head slightly, as though deciding against it. Finally, he told her, "Please let me know if Mister Bates needs anything. He took some nasty blows yesterday, and I may stop by your home later today to check on him."

"I will. And thank you, doctor."

She gave him a small smile that acknowledged the understanding which had silently passed between them before going on with her day.

* * *

Rather than take tea, Anna returned to the cottage briefly to check on her husband. She found him resting in their sitting room, a book in hand.

"How are you faring?" she asked.

"Well enough," he said, his answer unfolding into a question for her.

"Doctor Clarkson said he'd likely look in on you later." Folding her arms across her chest, Anna added, "He also confirmed that the man who died yesterday was indeed Mister Green."

Bates nodded slightly, unsurprised.

"He also gave me this."

Pulling a small object from her pocket, she place it on the table next to him. Glancing at it, he noticed it was a hair pin - one of the ones Anna regularly used to keep her hair in place when she was working.

He raised an eyebrow in curiosity.

"The doctor found that in... in _his_ possession," she informed him quietly.

"One of yours," he surmised.

"Maybe."

He shook his head, setting aside the book he'd been reading. Not picking it up and not touching it, but not taking his eyes from the otherwise nondescript pin, Bates let out a long held breath forcefully through both nostrils. Anna watched him as he briefly closed his eyes and then open them again before focusing on her.

"A trophy," he stated simply.

Anna frowned at his pronouncement, not certain what to make of it.

Clarifying, Bates said softly, "He kept it to remember, the bastard..."

The hair pin was common enough that it could not be traced back to an individual and small enough to be carried in a pocket. He had no doubt the pin belonged to Anna, likely taken from her the night of the attack. The fact that Green still had it with him only confirmed Bates' belief that the valet would have gone after Anna again.

"It might not be mine," she said softly. "There's no way to know."

"If not yours, then some other woman's," he responded. Anna froze at his statement, as though it had never before occurred to her that she might not be Green's sole victim. Such men were predators of opportunity, utilizing violence when charm did not prevail, or simply using force because it suited them.

Bates reached for the pin and bent it between his fingers. Within seconds, the metal was no longer straight and true but warped and unrecognizable. Anna did not flinch as he mangled it, but rather seeing the ruined wreck of the thing seemed to free her. Her shoulders straightened and the muscles in her face went slack. He set it aside on the table, intent upon disposing it later.

He carefully stood from the couch and approached her, a silent and unassuming offer of comfort. Safety. Whatever she needed.

Anna stepped closer and he wrapped his arms around her.

"I know it is horrible for me to say, but I'm so glad he's dead," Anna confessed, unable to keep her voice even as tears welled up in her eyes.

"It isn't horrible," he told her. "You have every right to feel that way. We both do."

She stood quietly for a while as he rubbed his hand across her back, his touch gentle but firm. Finally, she asked, "Do you think there were others... besides me?"

He did think Green had other victims, but he answered only, "Perhaps."

"And there may have been others later," Anna speculated. Her voice was low and contemplative, her tone introspective. "If you hadn't done what you did, he may have hurt other women."

Bates wished he could see inside her mind and tell what she was thinking. She'd once told Mrs. Hughes that he could read her like a book, but it simply was not true. While he could see the parts of her she allowed him to see, other parts remained veiled. This ordeal had altered Anna's naturally sunny and open personality so much he sometimes did not recognize her. She lied to him. She kept secrets. She issued threats.

And yet, beneath it all, she was still Anna Bates. She was still his wife - kind and loving and concerned for others besides herself.

"There may have been," he agreed.

"You defended yourself," she said aloud, "and you defended me. And the nameless others we will never know about."

Her words absolved him. She did not agree with him or his methods, but she understood his need to act. She could see it in the reflection of her own concern for those other women.

"Make no mistake, Anna - I did what I did for you alone."

She knew. He could see it in her eyes as he pulled back from her. But Anna betrayed no censure of his statement, nor did she let him move too far from her.

"I know why you did it," Anna stated. "And were I in your shoes, I might have done the same. But I won't condone you risking yourself like that. Nothing is worth your life, not to me."

Bates shook his head, willing in this instance to disagree with her. "You are worth everything I have have and more. As your husband, you must allow me that."

She looked uneasy at his statement, but Anna did not dispute him. He suspected that their strong feelings for the other would always divide them on this point of contention: who should bear the heavier burden when put to the test? To him, there was no question. She'd already sacrificed so much just to be with him. If he could make her life even slightly better, slightly easier, he would. But he would never ask the same of her.

"Doctor Clarkson... he was acting strange," Anna said quietly. She went on, stumbled over her words, "I think he suspects you in... in Green's death. He may ask questions."

Bates afforded her a reassuring look as he nodded. "I'm prepared for questions. But I doubt even he would believe this to be more than a... tragic accident."

"But what if he-"

He put one finger to her lips to hush her worried question. "Everything will be all right," he told her.

Frowning, she noticed a grimace he could not keep from crossing over his feature. He ignored the pain in his knee, which was still hurting from his fight with Green, as he stood and held her.

"Sit down," she scolded him, moving with him to their small couch. "How much does it hurt?"

"Not too bad," Bates told her truthfully. "I should be back on my feet in a few days. Thankfully, his Lordship is still out of the country."

"Will you tell him about... about what happened?"

"No more than I told the doctor."

He knew Anna worried about others finding out about what had happened to her. She hated that both Mrs. Hughes and Lady Mary knew, but in some ways it was easier because they were women and they cared about her. But if her circumstances became common knowledge, it would be beyond embarrassment - potentially ruinous to her reputation, no matter that it happened against her will.

Anna said softly but firmly, "I don't want you to keep my secret if it will make a difference. If you have to tell them why you fought Green, then I'd rather they knew the truth than believe you to be nothing more than a jealous husband."

"That shouldn't be necessary," Bates told her. "But I am glad that _you _see me as more than a jealous husband."

He watched as her eyes filled with tears. "Do you really not know how I see you?" she asked.

"Sometimes, I do wonder..." he admitted.

He was a killer. They both knew that now. Beyond anything he may have done in service to king and country in the army, he had purposely and thoughtfully brought about Green's death. And he would do it again, without hesitation. That fact alone should have frightened Anna, but he saw no fear in her eyes. Or rather, any trepidation was on his behalf, not because of him.

"I see you as the kindest, most tender man I have ever met. Knowing that you were driven to violence on my behalf... to protect me... that guilt is on me. Because you are a good person, John Bates." She paused, looking away. "You've said so many times you were undeserving of me when really, the very opposite is true. I am not worthy of you."

"Don't say such things."

"It's true. You accepted me even when you thought I'd been unfaithful to you. I admitted it, and you still asked me to come home with you. I hurt you and-"

He held up a hand to halt her words. "Please stop, Anna. You describe what happened between us like I made a sacrifice, and I didn't."

"But it was-"

"Being with you could _never_ be a sacrifice," he told her fiercely, unwilling to let her believe such a notion for even a moment. "You - our life together - it is a gift, the greatest gift, Anna..."

Bates kissed her, gently pulling her nearer to him on the couch. She did not resist, nor did she tremble in fear at his touch. While he had no wish to frighten her, he did want her to understand how much he needed her, how imperative she was to his existence.

When she pulled away some moments later, he noticed her smiling. Not a wide grin as she used to sport, but a tiny smirk she could not hide. She was still very far away from the comfort level she used to show with him, but it was getting better. Perhaps they would never be as they had been before. But he could be there for her day by day as she came back to herself, back to them.

* * *

TBC


	11. Chapter 11

**A/N: This is the last chapter. I want to thank everyone who has stuck through this angst-ridden story, especially those who have left reviews or PMed me or commented on tumblr with your thoughts and feedback. I always love hearing your thoughts.**

* * *

Doctor Clarkson stopped at the cottage a few hours after Anna returned to Downton. He followed Bates into the sitting room, and after doing a quick examination of the man, declining an offer of tea before getting ready to set off.

"I just stopped by to see how my patient was faring. If you can walk to the door and back, I don't think there's any lasting damage."

Bates nodded. "I agree. I'm just a little banged up."

The doctor gave him a careful look. "Yes, I'd say Mister Green took the worst of your encounter. That is... despite appearances seeming otherwise."

Meeting his gaze, the valet asked, "Are you accusing me of something?"

Clarkson did not answer right away. Rather, the seconds ticked by, filling the cottage with unease before he said with forced confidence, "No, of course not. I'm sure his injuries were merely an unintended accident."

"Or he was hit by that car in the village," Bates pointed out.

"Entirely possible," the doctor reluctantly agreed. He made a move towards the door but paused, his eyes having settled on the table beside the couch. Bates followed his gaze and noticed the bent hair pin he had forgotten to throw away.

"Was it hers?" Clarkson asked, his gruff voice barely above a whisper.

Needing no clarification of the question, Bates answered, "We don't know. It may have been. Or another woman's."

Another moment of silence, although the valet could not bring himself to worry about anything but the doctor's good opinion of him.

Finally, after a time, the country doctor commented quietly, "I can't say I'd have done anything differently in your situation."

Bates was surprised at the statement, knowing of the oath doctors took to do no harm. But as Clarkson looked up at him, he did so with the eyes of a man and a fellow soldier, not just a healer. A man who had loved a woman and likely still did, who would do any number of unspeakable things for her sake. He did not agree with the valet's actions, nor did he condone them. But he understood them. And he could not cast judgment.

"You know where to find me if I'm needed," the doctor said. "You or Mrs. Bates, of course."

He left without another word.

* * *

By the day of the church bazaar, Bates' leg had returned to its usual state. He and Anna were thankful the blow from Green did not do any real damage. And while the bruises on his face had begun to fade, they were still an ugly and colorful reminder of Bates' encounter with the dead valet.

Anna enjoyed herself at the bazaar, helping young Sybbie play a few of the games and serving at the refreshment table. Bates contented himself with watching her, taking note of her feigned smiles and the genuine ones which touched her eyes. She still carried shadows around herself, stepping into them for long moments when her gaze bore into nothingness, invisible portals to one particular moment in the past. But it happened less and less.

Lord Grantham's return was a surprise to everyone, although not unwelcome to Bates. He kept busy at the house, but the valet had been without true occupation while his master was abroad. While he knew the earl disliked being dressed by Thomas, he always worried about the younger man taking his position. Who knew what vile poison the underbutler had spewed to their employer during his weeks in America? Bates still cursed himself for his kindness to Thomas in helping him get his reference which facilitated the man staying at Downton.

The earl smiled and greeted everyone, clearly happy to be home. After greeting his wife and daughters, he gave Bates' face a hard look but said nothing about the bruises, at least not in front of the others. He reserved his questions for later, as the valet helped him change out of his traveling clothes.

"What happened, Bates?"

The question was direct and unavoidable. He could not lie to his employer, not outright. It would be wrong.

"I regret to tell you that I was in an altercation, milord."

His Lordship turned to him with wide eyes. "You - were in a fight?" he asked in disbelief.

"With Lord Gillingham's valet."

Confused, he asked, "And where did this happen?"

"Downstairs, in the boot room. He... I won't repeat what he said, but Anna was the subject of his comments. Threats, even."

"He made threats?" The word brought the nobleman up short. Standing to face the valet, he focused his entire, undivided attention on Bates. "What sort of threats?"

"Nothing we need worry about now. He ran away after besting me in the fight. But he... he died the same day, milord. Internal injuries, according to the doctor. He may have been hit by a car after he fled Downton."

Lord Grantham looked at him for a long time, obviously considering. "I find it hard to believe he beat you in a fight. It hasn't been that many years since the army, and you were one of the best. What's really going on here, Bates?"

The valet fell silent and looked away, a signal of his refusal to answer. The earl watched him carefully, with the thoughtful consideration of a man who knew him well. He'd confided to his Lordship about his wife's initial distance, but he'd said nothing more about it before Lord Grantham left for America.

"You said he threatened Anna," the earl prompted.

"Yes, milord. He did."

The finality in his voice confirmed that he would not give the substance of those threats. But his eyes betrayed a guilt and sadness that nothing could ever make right. Robert Crawley was an observant man, one molded by a society full of unspoken secrets and and the instincts of natural leadership. As an unconscious understanding of the situation dawned, he only needed to ask one further question.

"Is she all right?"

Pausing before answering the inquiry, Bates said, "She will be. I hope." He stopped himself before amending himself to say, "No, I know she will be. She is strong."

"And she has you."

The valet gave a tight nod of absolute confirmation. Nothing could budge him from her side.

They said nothing else on the subject, but the earl thought long and hard that night about matters. He heard the story about Lord Gillingham's valet from his wife and daughters, none of whom seemed to connect the man's death to Bates. Everyone was under the impression he'd been hit by a motorist when he stumbled into the road in the village.

Mary took particular delight in praising fate's whim as she abused the dead man for attacking one of their servants. But as he looked across the table at her with a piercing gaze, she quickly and expertly changed the subject. Robert considered asking her about it - Anna was her maid, after all, and she'd been the subject of the threats Bates spoke of - but in the end, decided against it. Some secrets were better left buried, and this one threatened to take down good people over the demise of a man who seemed to deserve his fate. He only hoped it stayed buried.

* * *

Anna woke from nightmares less frequently than she had before, but they still happened. On this night, she remembered only a blinding fear of losing her husband, of him turning his back on her and walking away. She could sense his suffering as he carried her betrayal in his heart, a lie told to spare him which only wrought more damage.

She had to give him up in the dream, to watch him leave her and let it happen without a word to make him stay. Hurting him so much was wrong, an evil beyond reckoning, but she could not watch him die. She could not bring about his downfall. And if the price of his life meant her own heart, if it meant _his_, she had to pay it.

She woke up crying, her sobs making breathing difficult as she made desperate gasps for air.

But he was there in the darkness beside her. She could sense his presence even if she could not see his eyes in the dim room. His hand sought out hers, his voice deep and calm as he said her name and whispered reassurances.

"You are safe. No one can hurt you. I'm here, Anna."

It was their ritual, developed and tested in the time since she told him the truth about the attack. He never failed to wake with her, never slept through her nightmares or showed the tiniest bit of impatience with their frequency. Sometimes he would hold her, letting his body surround her with comforting warmth. Other times he would simply lay beside her, just being there. Whatever she asked of him, he did.

And slowly, things had been improving.

"I would be lost without you," Anna told him once she'd stopped crying and had a firmer grip on her emotions. On this night, she simply held his hand, her head on the pillow facing him but unable to make out his features in the dark.

"As would I be lost without you," Bates agreed. She could hear the sadness in his voice, the guilt he refused to leave behind.

"I know you still blame yourself," she said. "You shouldn't."

"If I had been there..."

"There was no reason for you to be there. I simply went for a powder, just as I have hundreds of times before. You cannot be with me every moment."

Anna squeezed his hand, a gentle reproach.

"Neither of us were to blame," she told him, "but you least of all. I regret that you were hurt so much in this."

He sighed at her tone and shifted restlessly on his side of the bed. "Please, Anna," he said, "don't speak as though my feelings are more than your own. Whatever pain I feel is on your behalf, for what was done to you."

She responded, "I just think I was unnecessarily cruel, letting you believe I was willing in what happened."

"You wished to spare me."

"But it was a foolish wish. I see that now..."

"Not foolish," he contradicted. "Never foolish. You were afraid and acted to spare me despite your fear. I could never fault you for that."

Anna was quiet for a time before venturing, "You know I would never..."

"I know."

The darkness and her husband's hand warm in her own gave her the courage to share more, the things she'd been holding back along with her shame and guilt.

"He said things to me that night, about you."

"What did he say?" His voice was gentle and kind, the voice of a friend.

"That I wanted him. That you were somehow lacking."

Green's words still burned in her ears, the first sudden indication she had that he was not the nice and lively visiting servant she'd thought him to be. His suggestion that her husband could be found wanting as a man offended her, and even more so because she knew it to be completely false. John Bates was all she could have hoped for in married life.

Anna had never thought it would necessarily be easy, learning to live with another person, just the two of them in one home. But they had settled together with surprising ease after his release from prison. And even as they took the time to explore the private side of marital relations behind the closed door of their bedroom, they learned about each other, both the good and the bad.

His knee plagued him more than he let on to others, and sometimes when the weather was bad or he twisted it unintentionally, he would grow abrupt or short with her. But more often than not, he just became very quiet and distant, preferring to focus his attention on a book or a bit of his Lordship's mending.

And when she offered to help him with the tasks that were more difficult, she could see the embarrassment in his eyes - his shame that she believed he was incapable of some tasks.

Anna had quickly learned to pick her battles: when to let him expend energy on a task she could have done with ease and when to insist that he give it up to her. He still retrieved the coal from outside the cottage at night, even though he had to limp without his cane so he could carry the lamp to see. She suspected that the activity allowed him some time to himself and an opportunity to survey their small neighborhood.

It had seemed silly to her at the time, for him to worry about prowlers and burglars in the English countryside. She understood better now and cursed herself for not trusting her husband more.

Anna was drawn from her thoughts by the soft squeeze of his hand.

"What did you say?" he asked.

She'd been talking about Green, Anna remembered. "I told him you make me very happy. That's all."

At the time, she was too incensed by the question to elaborate, and the man had no business in her private affairs. But what she'd wanted to tell him... She'd wanted to say that no one could even approach Mr. Bates, that he was everything she could ever wish for.

"I didn't know then, what he'd do. I just knew he frightened me, that his question was inappropriate. I thought he was propositioning me, that somehow I'd led him to believe I wanted something other than what I had with you."

Anna grew quiet as she fought back memories of that night. In all honesty, the kitchen reminded her more of the attack than even the boot room because that was were her illusion of safety was shattered. That was where he'd forced her to kiss him, and where he'd hit her when she tried to pull away. The suddenness of his violence had stunned her, and even as she'd struggled, she could not quite believe what was happening.

"The fault was with him, Anna, not you," her husband reminded her.

"I shouldn't have thanked him for the card game, not after you stopped it."

She had not understood Mr. Bates' jealousy at the time, his anger at her, but in hindsight, she realized he understood the situation for the seriousness she did not recognize.

"It wouldn't have mattered," he told her. "Nothing you said or did would have stopped him once he was intent upon hurting you. I should have been there. I should have figured out his design and protected you."

Anna realized that the touch of his hand was not enough, not on this night. Moving carefully, she turned on her side facing toward him and curled herself against his side. When they'd first begun to share a bed, Anna had chosen the side she did to accommodate his bad knee, which he often kept bent to avoid pain. And ever since she'd moved back into the cottage, he'd slept on the very edge of the bed so as to give her more room without accidentally touching her in the night.

He let out a shuttering breath as she settled into the crook of his arm, and it reminded Anna that they had not been intimate in many months, not since _before_. The very thought of it still terrified her - not only that she would have a flashback to the attack by Green, but also that her own husband might not be able to push it from his own mind. As much as he'd assured her that she was not dirty, that her body was not spoiled, she still wondered if his love for her blinded him. She would perhaps always wonder because he would never confess it, not ever, even if he did regard her as broken and soiled in the secrecy of his own mind.

Before all this, she had enjoyed their marital life, more than she ever thought she would after so many years of her mother dropping hints about unpleasant wifely duties. No girl who grew up on a farm was completely innocent of what occurred between a man and a woman, but Mr. Bates was patient and tender. He always saw to her pleasure, something she had not expected. They had to take care with his injury, but he found her tenacious creativity endearing. Anna wondered how Vera had treated him in his first marriage that he was so grateful for and surprised by her displays of affection for him.

She desperately hoped they could one day have that back - the quiet and not-so-quiet moments they'd so enjoyed as husband and wife in that very room.

Putting his arm around her body, her husband pulled Anna close to him. She could hear his breath as he took in the scent of her hair. She always chose the soap he preferred because she liked to hear his sighs of appreciation. At least that was still the same.

"There is no use casting blame," she said quietly. "It is over now, finished. Life can go back to normal."

"Can it really?" he asked, not quite disbelieving.

"I don't know," Anna admitted. "I hope so."

"As long as you're here with me, I don't care what normal is any more," he confessed. "I only care that you're safe and sound, that you can find some bit of happiness every day."

Smiling despite herself, she asked, "Who could possibly ask for more than that?"

Anna fell asleep with his arm around her, the gentle rise and fall of his chest a soothing motion, like the rocking of a baby's cradle.

* * *

_fin_


End file.
